


The Fisherman and the Siren

by akaihoshi



Category: Fire Emblem: Soen no Kiseki/Akatsuki no Megami | Fire Emblem Path of Radiance/Radiant Dawn
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Eventual Smut, Fisherman!Ike, Interspecies Relationship(s), Language Barrier, M/M, Mermaid!Soren, Not Beta Read, Siren!Soren, i don't know what happened, i like smut ok, mermaids as mammals, no magic, not a parody of the little mermaid, plz be gentle, this was supposed to be short, trying to science this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-09-23 17:01:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 37,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17084219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akaihoshi/pseuds/akaihoshi
Summary: It sucks fishing alone. Ike can’t seem catch much when he has to do everything himself and for the first week after the funeral his haul is pitiful. It’s cold and wet and lonely as hell, but… somehow it’s better than being home alone.But some days he catches a glimpse of a small orca alongside his boat. It's quick, a small splash and the glint of a black tail as it dives back into the water, but somehow it puts Ike at ease. It feels like something - or someone - is looking out for him.And that's something he desperately needs these days.----A modern retelling of the little mermaid but gay with 100% less magic.





	1. Spring

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hopeandjoy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopeandjoy/gifts).



> I have no idea what prompted me to write this but... well here we are.
> 
> This may read a little weird cuz I tried writing this in present tense (I've never done that before). It still feels a little awkward to me, but I'm committed now. It's definitely a simpler, less lyrical way to write; might be well suited towards shorter stories, I'm not sure. I guess we'll see how it goes. This is meant to be a quick project, so expect some inconsistencies.
> 
> I should also mention that while this is a mermaid fic, it is NOT a re-telling of the little mermaid. There's no magic in this fic at all (other than the magic of LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOVE).
> 
> With all that said, I do hope you guys enjoy this light hearted little fic (that's not so little and maybe not so lighthearted).

It’s cold.

The bay is full of chunks of ice, and the sky is a dull washed out gray. It’s quiet too, only faint sounds of the occasional car vibrate in the distance and the ocean is too far away for the waves to make any noise.

Ike shivers. He’s not dressed for this weather. A black suit isn’t ideal for sub zero temperatures, but freezing seems preferable to going back inside and letting people smother him with their condolences.

Whatever the fuck those are.

He breathes in deep, letting cold air bite his lungs and watches as his breath fans out in thick white tendrils. It reminds him of the cigars his dad used to smoke and Ike feels the craving claw at his guts. He’s never smoked before and probably never will but that doesn’t stop him from wanting to breathe in that odd herbal scent he associates only with his father.

Mist will come looking for him soon, so Ike chokes down his feelings and tries to force a smile but his muscles are stiffer than usual.

Maybe if he’s quiet he can sneak down to the docks, hop in his dad’s boat, and just… disappear for a few hours. Maybe being at sea would calm him down, make him feel like he was close to his father again.

Or maybe it would just torture him with replays of the accident.

As if on cue, the front door of the reception hall opens and Mist steps just outside of it. She doesn’t say anything and for that Ike is glad. Her eyes are red and swollen from tears. Ike puts an arm around her shoulders. They lean against each other and head back inside.

\-----

Two weeks pass. Mist goes back to college in the city and Ike is left to take up responsibility for their father’s commercial fishing business himself. He doesn’t feel ready, but what other option does he have? Unlike Mist, he never went to college and almost flunked out of highschool. Fishing’s all he knows and he has to make it work. After all, the house isn’t worth much, and the life insurance money will run out quickly what with Mist’s rising college fees.

If he wants to eat, he has to make this business work.

He spends his first day of work trying to decipher spreadsheets but numbers make his head spin and his father’s methods were unorthodox to say the least. It takes hours to comb through them.

His phone blinks around dinnertime and Ike realizes that it’s been on silent. He dials his mailbox and listens.

It’s Shinon.

Ike’s brow furrows, unsure of what Shinon could want. He’s already told him and Gatrie to meet him down at the docks at the usual time, but as the message drags on, Ike chokes on his rage.

 _“You’re not fit to captain a boat and we aren’t taking orders from some snot-nosed welp,”_ The familiar voice snarls at him through the speaker, condescending and unapologetic.

Ike roars in frustration and hurls a chair against the wall. It splinters and dents the wall, but doesn’t break.

He’s shaking. Shinon and Gatrie are – were – the only fishermen that his father worked with. Without them, how is he supposed to fish? He can’t do it alone.

And Ike is very much alone.

His friends left for the city years ago, and those precious few who were still around are too busy with their own lives. The same can be said for his acquaintances around town.

The truth is, fishing is all Ike has. With or without Shinon, Gatrie and his father… he has to make it work.

He _has_ to.

His phone asks him if he’d like to hear the message again and he tries not to cry.

\-----

The first week sucks.

It’s cold and wet and the ocean is nothing but white noise and the rare cry of a seagull. It’s lonely too, nothing but water and sky as far as Ike can see. Somehow it’s still better than being home alone.

The silence bothers him but the radio is more annoying than helpful.

Ike never realized how much there was to manage on a single Longliner until he had to manage it all himself. The first day he forgets the bait, the second he forgets to fill his gas canisters and almost doesn’t make it back to shore.

It takes him hours to set the main line and hours to pull it back in. March days are already short, and Ike never manages to finish before dark without much in the way of fish to show for it. By the end of the week, he trades his longlines for fast action rods, and his live bait for jigs. It’s old fashioned and less efficient for a commercial operation, but six hooks is a lot easier to manage on his own.

It’s not the best haul by far, but one full freezer is better than an empty one.

He sees dolphins from time to time arcing out of the water. He always stops whatever he’s doing to watch them. They always show up in groups, frolicking near the surface for a while before disappearing completely. Strange as it seems, their presence eases his loneliness if only a little.

Occasionally, Ike catches a glimpse of what he assumes is a young orca circling his boat. Unlike the dolphins, the orca is always alone and never surfaces for long. It's always quick, a small splash and the glint of a black tail as it dives back into the water. Ike finds himself searching for that familiar dark shadow more often than not. Unlike the dolphins that always make him feel envious of their constant companionship, the orca instills him with a sense of camaraderie in their mutual solitude.

It’s comforting, in a weird way, and comfort is something Ike desperately needs.

\-----

In hindsight, Ike should have been paying closer attention to the weather.

He knew there was a storm warning, but the NWA always erred on the side of caution. The weather report hadn’t sounded too bad, and the morning sky was mostly clear when he set out.

The downpour hammers at his rainslick as he tries to steady himself. The boat is heaving. He’s already lost two rods off the side of the boat and the engine won’t start. He can barely hear the radio over the howling wind and booming thunder but what he can hear is that the coastguard can’t reach him.

He’s anchored securely at least. As long as the anchor line holds, he can hunker down and wait things out. Ike digs through a storage bin, looking for a life vest to fit over his jacket, swearing as the boat heaves to one side and back again and he slips for the umpteenth time.

The waves are getting bigger and he’s nervous. His boat is small, not made for big swells like these. One vertical heave, the boat will flip and that would be the end of him. His freezing fingers finally lock on to a life vest and he sputters out a wet sigh of relief.

He slips it over his shoulders and fumbles with the buckles. The wind picks up again and suddenly Ike is hurtling backwards over the rail.

The waves swallow him whole.

He flails and fights against the current, desperate for the surface – for air – to no avail. The ocean is too heavy, too cold, too strong for him to struggle against for long. It presses down on him and he’s sinking, sinking, _sinking…_

A fitting end, he thinks. His lungs crackle and burn as the air is wrenched from him. His vision blurs and shadows swirl around him as everything fades to black…

\-----

Someone’s hands are pounding against his chest as Ike stumbles back into consciousness.  He sucks in painful gasps of air and chokes on the rain that pools in the back of his throat.

He rolls over onto his elbows, dry heaves racking his body as he coughs up a stomach full of water, and desperately tries to catch his breath.

“…shit…” He croaks. His lungs feel too small for his body, his stomach aching and sore. The rain beats against his drenched jacket rhythmically, and it’s all Ike can do to hold himself up and take small, shallow breaths.

His elbows buckle as a wave crashes against the side of the boat and douses him in seawater – a reminder that he may be alive for now, but he’s still in danger. He needs a life vest and a safe spot on deck to wait out the storm. If he’s lucky, perhaps he won’t freeze before the coastguard finds him.

Ike tries to stand, but he only gets so far before he slips and falls back to his knees. Fingers lightly brush his cheek and Ike startles.

He’s not alone.

The hand that touched his cheek pulls back, and Ike finally looks up and gasps.

Wary red eyes peer back at him from behind a curtain of long black hair, pale lips parted only slightly as if wanting to ask him something, but not knowing how. The face is human, but the body is not. It’s glossy black and twisted like a giant eel, a dorsal fin protruding from its back and white markings on its hips. The hands are somewhere inbetween, white and human like but with skin stretched between each finger.

They stare at each other, neither brave enough to move first.

Lightning flashes overhead.

The boat heaves again and Ike lurches forward. The creature catches him before he face-plants onto the deck and waits for the boat to right itself before pushing him away. It looks scared.

“Hey,” Ike raises his voice so it can be heard over the storm, but the force of his voice startles the creature and it cowers against the opposite side of the boat. Ike frowns and crawls towards it, “Hey,” he says more quietly this time, “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

Red eyes stare at him apprehensively, muscles tensed and ready to bolt at a moment’s notice. Ike holds out his hand, shivering as a sharp gust of wind pelts him in the face. The creature considers him for a moment then slowly reaches towards the life vest Ike had lost earlier. It places it in Ike’s hands and quickly draws its hands back.

Ike smiles weakly. It wasn’t the reaction he had expected but it was welcome all the same.

“Thanks,” He says. The creature stays silent but the edges of its lips twitch.

The radio screeches to life, and the creature startles, hoisting itself over the railing and disappearing into the sea. Ike calls after it, but the rain doubles in intensity and he’s reminded that he’s not safe yet.

He stumbles towards the radio, and waits.

\-----

Titania and Mist had taken turns screaming at him once he’s back on dry land. They force him to stay in bed for nearly a week, taking turns watching over him to make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid. For once Ike can’t bring himself to argue. It’s nice to feel cared for.

He promises to text them both whenever he leaves and when he docks and that’s barely enough for them to let him back onto the boat. He was a little apprehensive getting on the boat, but feeling it rock gently beneath his feet while the sun warms his skin makes him feel like the events of the previous week was just a bad dream – a dream playing on his fears of drowning like his father.

He shivers.

A shadow circles his boat and Ike thinks of scared red eyes and pale lips dripping with rain and wonders if that creature he saw was something like a hallucination. He had nearly drowned, after all; it wouldn’t be unheard of.

As he tends to one of his rods, something catches his eye. He glances down at the water and stumbles backwards in surprise. He rushes back to the edge of the boat for another look, but whatever he saw is gone. He frowns, leans against the rail and rubs his temple. Maybe he should call Ranulf later to see if he’s free.

Solitude may be messing with his head.

He pulls in one of his lines and unhooks the Cod one by one, eyes flicking over the surface of the water every so often.

Just in case.

Ike tries not to hide his disappointment when the sun starts to set and there’s no sign of the creature. He packs his things slowly in the hopes of catching one more glance just to make sure he wasn’t imagining things but he knows it’s pointless.

He turns to drop one last fish into a nearby bucket, but stops as soon as he spots the creature reaching towards it, eyes fixed cautiously on Ike and webbed fingers outstretched.

Ike doesn’t dare to breathe lest he scare it off, but the creature doesn’t move. It holds Ike’s gaze warily, almost in challenge and Ike finds himself easing into a grin. Slowly he holds the fish out and waits for the creature to take it.

Ike counts the seconds in heartbeats.

Red eyes narrow suspiciously, but it reaches for the fish and takes it with the smallest of shy smiles and Ike releases the breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

It disappears beneath the water with the fish, and Ike tries to ignore his disappointment.

At least he knows he didn’t imagine things.

\-----

Another two days pass and Ike is growing impatient. He’s been watching the creature circle his boat for hours – at least he assumes that’s what it is. It could be a dolphin or the small orca Ike’s so fond of, but part of him is convinced it’s the creature that saved him during the storm.

Although, calling it a creature isn’t exactly fair. From the waist up at least, it looked human with the exception of its coloring. Does that make it a person?

There’s a small clack by his feet and Ike looks down to see the subject of his thoughts placing oysters next to his feet. He can’t help but chuckle.

Ike picks up the shells and motions for it to follow him around the stern where there’s a small platform at water level for those times when he needs to use a dinghy. It follows him, fingers lightly set on the platform as Ike sits nearby.

“Hey,” He hesitates, unsure of what to say next or if the one in front of him can even understand him, “I uh, guess I should thank you huh?” It rises a little out of the water and tilts its head to the side. Ike rubs the back of his next and continues, “You know, for saving me? During the storm?” Silence follows, and Ike clears his throat.

In the daylight his visitor’s pale face is beautiful if not a little alien. It reminds him of an orca, what with the white face and chest starkly contrasted against glossy black everywhere else. It also makes him thinks of those storybooks he used to read to his little sister when they were younger… what were those creatures called again? Mermaids?

But mermaids can talk, right? Or sing? Wasn’t there a movie about that? The one where the mermaid trades her voice to a witch for legs so she can convince some guy to fall for her without ever saying a word. Then again, in the world of fiction everyone can conveniently speak English. Maybe real mermaids speak something else, like French or German.

He clears his throat again and taps his chest twice.

“Ike,” he says, watching carefully for a reaction. He gets one in the form of wide eyes and a curious head tilt. He taps his chest again and repeats himself, “Ike.”

“Aai-ku,” It mouths, voice hoarse but somehow mellow, smooth and deep and definitely male. Ike breaks into a large grin.

“That’s right! Ike,” he laughs. The merman returns a small smile and tries again.

“Aai-ck. Aick. Ike,” He looks pleased, mouthing the sounds under his breath. He taps the side of the longliner and looks at Ike expectantly.

“Ah. This is a boat. Boat,” Ike says, still grinning.

“Boh-ta. Boh – boht. Boat,” His smile widens.

The next few minutes are filled with the mermaid tapping whatever he can reach and waiting for Ike to name the items so he can repeat them. Eventually he runs out of things within his reach and hovers in the water, quietly repeating them all to himself while Ike watches.

“What about you?” Ike asks, not expecting a clear answer. The mermaid looks up at him and tilts his head.

“Ike?” He says. He flinches when Ike reaches for him the first time, but lets Ike close the distance on his second attempt. Ike taps his shoulder twice and waits. The mermaid looks at him expectantly.

“Ike,” Ike says, tapping his own chest twice. He taps the mermaid’s shoulder again, and waits.

The intention seems to get across because the mermaid falls silent for a moment. Does he even have a name?

Ike isn’t sure.

“S… sah… sahi…sohiren… soyreh,” The mermaid frowns, “Shoyren? Soyrehnn…”

“Soren?” Ike offers. He’s heard the name before, although he’s surprised to hear it now. The mermaid looks at him a little perplexed.

“Soren…?” He taps his chest twice and Ike nods at him. His webbed fingers clutch at his chest like he’s holding something precious, “Soren…” He smiles, wide and proud, and something inside of Ike’s chest twists.

“Nice to meet you, Soren,” He says.

Soren smiles back at him.

\-----

“Ike,” Soren says. He sits on the dinghy platform, tail dangling in the water, “What this?” He taps a picture in the magazine he’s holding. Ike peers over his shoulder.

“That’s an orca,” He removes the hook from a freshly caught cod and drops it in a nearby bucket. Soren traces the picture with his webbed fingers.

“Ohr…ka…” He mouths the words to himself a few more times then taps his chest, “See Soren.” It’s a broken sentence but after several weeks of Soren’s visits, Ike can more or less understand what he means.

“It looks like Soren?” Ike teases. Soren purses his lips. A quick study he may be, but the differences between words like ‘hear’ and ‘listen,’ as well as  ‘see’ and ‘look’ still escape him.

“Looks… like Soren,” He repeats, “Looks like… me?” He struggles with pronouns too and Ike can’t help but feel as though it’s the fault of the teacher rather than the student.

“Yes, it looks like you,” Ike says. Soren hums thoughtfully and turns the page, careful to keep the papers dry.

It feels surreal to have Soren casually sitting on the stern of his boat while he works. Even after their first conversation – if you can call it that – Soren was skittish and overly cautious. He would circle Ike’s boat for hours at a time before daring to peek out of the water and make himself known.

Stranger still, Soren never shows up empty handed. He always has something to give to Ike; Oysters, clams, freshly caught fish, rusted boat tack, pretty rocks – it’s almost like he thinks Ike won’t let him stick around unless Soren has something to offer him in return. Ike can’t communicate clearly enough to tell him that it’s alright if Soren doesn’t bring him anything and part of him doesn’t want to try. After all, the look on Soren’s face and the pleased purr he makes every time Ike accepts one of his gifts twists his insides in all the right ways.

It’s endearing, really.

“Ike,” Soren twists and braces his elbows on the deck, his lower half still submerged in the water.

“Mm?” Ike drops his line back into the water and Soren motions for him to sit.

“Picture… understand. Um,” Soren points to a long column of grey text just beneath a photograph of a sailboat, “What this? These?”

Ike’s at bit of a loss. Teaching Soren how to speak English was one thing. Teaching him about writing? That’s a challenge he’s not sure he can handle. School hadn’t been kind to him, and he’d never been a particularly strong reader. Letters often swap places and flip around when he reads for too long.

Then again, it’s not as though Soren has anything to compare him to.

“Those are words,” Ike finally says. Soren tilts his head and frowns.

“Words. What use?” His brow furrows as he stares at the page before them.

“Uh, well…” Ike rubs the back of his neck, “It’s like… when I’m talking to you, except… on paper.”

Soren blinks and Ike knows he only understands about half of the words.

“Talk… on paper?” He mumbles to himself and Ike can tell his mind is racing. He bolts upright and smacks the paper again, “Show me.”

“Oh, uh… well…” Where does he even start? “Wait here,” Ike reaches for his backpack and digs around for an old ballpoint pen and a sparkly pink notepad Mist shoved in there one day and never recovered. He uncaps the pen with his teeth and turns around so he and Soren are both facing the notepad.

Carefully, he writes his name in large capital letters. Soren watches in fascination.

“What this?” He asks.

“It says, Ike,” Ike points to each letter in turn and sounds them out, “Ai-ke.”

“Ike…” Soren traces the letters, his eyes wide and awestruck. Soren nudges him with his shoulder.

“Do me,” He says, “Soren.” Ike chuckles and complies, writing Soren’s name just below his.

“See? Soh-ren,” Ike watches Soren trace the next set of letters, fingers lingering on the E.

“This… same,” He taps the E in both names and Ike laughs.

“Yeah, we share a letter,” Soren plucks the pen from Ike’s hand and clumsily draws a circle around the E’s.

“Soren share letter Ike,” He declares proudly.

“Soren shares a letter _with_ Ike,” Ike chides. Soren shoves him off balance, but there’s a small smile on his face.

“ _With_ Ike,” He repeats, “Soren shares a letter with Ike,” He looks smug with one eyebrow marking raised, “Do more,” he insists.

Ike rolls his eyes and shuts the notepad.

“After I’m done for the day, ok?” It’s all Ike can do to resist the temptation to cave when he sees Soren’s look of disappointment.

“Ok,” He grumbles, and picks up the discarded magazine to casually flip through it again.

Ike manages to hold out for an hour before he caves. He takes a seat next to dinghy platform, notepad in hand, and elbows Soren as soon as he notices the cocky smirk on his face.

“Shut up,” He says knowing full well Soren won’t understand the meaning, “Now give me a word.”

\-----

It’s the middle of the night when Ike’s phone goes off. At first he ignores it, but it rings again, and again, and again…

He curses under his breath and snatches his phone off the bedside table.

“ _What?”_ He hisses into the receiver.

“Whoa, no need to get snippy, Ike,” The voice on the other end replies. Ike sinks further back into his pillow.

“Ranulf, it’s…” Ike squints at his phone screen, “Half-passed midnight. The hell do you want?”

“Oh is it? Sorry, were you sleeping?” Ranulf at least has the sense to sound apologetic.

“I _was_ ,” Ike sighs, “So did you need something? Or can I go back to bed?”

“Ugh, Ike it’s Friday night! We’re hitting the bar downtown. Come out with us,” Ranulf pleads.

“…I’m hanging up,” Ike mutters.

“No! Ike, wait! I just –” Ranulf sighs on the other end of the line, “Look there’s this really hot librarian here right? And you came up in conversation and bam! Turns out she’s really into you!”

“…Librarian…?” Ike blinks blearily at the darkness.

“Yeah! It’s a good chance for you to cut loose, you know? You’ve been working non-stop lately,” Ike hums in thought, “I can even wing man for you! You know, play you up? I never get to do that! So whaddaya say? You in? Or are you in?”

“Actually, that’s a really good idea,” Ike says after a long pause. Ranulf laughs excitedly.

“Really!? You’ll come!? That’s great! I’ll go get –”

“The library is a great idea,” Ike yawns, “I can get some books for Soren. Night, Ran.”

He barely notices Ranulf’s confused stammering as he hangs up and promptly passes out.

\-----

There’s twenty-six unread text messages on his phone the next morning, all from Ranulf, the latest of which reads, “Who the hell is Soren?!” Ike’s not quite sure how to answer that question, so he ignores the messages opting to take an early morning trip to the library instead.

The young librarian gives him an awfully perplexed look when he dumps a tall stack of children’s books on the counter without any explanation. If she says anything beyond the due date, Ike doesn’t notice. He slings the bag of books over his shoulder and heads towards the docks.

He doesn’t have long to wait. He sees Soren’s head peek out of the shallows by his boat almost immediately after he arrives.

“Soren!” Ike waves at him. Soren jumps at the sound of his name but relaxes when he catches sight of Ike. He glances around the area checking to make sure no one’s around before swimming closer to shore.

“Ike,” Soren pushes himself up onto the sand, tail curling out of the water, “Here,” he holds out a large sand dollar. Ike rolls his eyes. The gift is unnecessary, but he accepts it anyway.

“Thanks,” He tucks it into his side pocket, “I’ve got something for you too, but let’s go somewhere else first.”

“No boat?” Soren asks, disappointed.

“Not today,” Ike says. Soren looks thoughtful for a moment, then lets a wave take him back into the water. He surfaces and motions for Ike to follow him.

It’s a little distance from the docks, a private cove surrounded on three sides by a steep rock walls. Soren floats on his back in the shallows.

“Water deep. More human come, I hide,” He dives to illustrate his point.

“Good plan,” Ike laughs, and sets his bag by one of the partially submerged rocks closest to shore. Soren hoists himself out of the water and sits next to Ike.

“What Ike has?” Soren’s bright red eyes glimmer with excitement that Ike finds rather contagious.

“Books,” He says, pulling out a couple and holding them just out of Soren’s reach. Soren tries to snatch them out of Ike’s hands and nearly falls into his lap doing so, “Hey! Not so fast. You can’t get these wet, ok?” Soren scowls and wipes his hands haphazardly on Ike’s pants before successfully stealing the books, “…I had a towel you know…” Ike tries to stifle his grin.

“This faster. We read now?” Ike rummages for something else in his bag.

“Almost,” Soren opens his mouth to protest but stops when he feels Ike’s hands tying back his hair. Soren touches the metal clasp delicately, “There we go. Now you won’t drip on the pages,” Soren gives him a quizzical look.

“…mine?” He says, quietly. Ike nods.

“Yours. Don’t lose it ok?” He lays a towel over Soren’s lap and opens the book.

“…kay,” Soren says in the softest voice Ike’s ever heard.

He traces the patterns on the clasp for the rest of the afternoon.

\-----

Sneaking off to read in the cove becomes their new routine. During the week Soren follows Ike back to shore and waits for Ike to finish unloading his catch before speeding off to the cove to make use of whatever daylight is left. On weekends, Ike shows up early and brings lunch for both of them. He learns of Soren’s strange fondness for sandwiches and often packs an extra one just in case.

Titania corners him once or twice, worried that he’s overworking himself since he only returns home to sleep. Her lectures never last long. It’s difficult for her to claim that Ike’s not taking care of himself when he’s the happiest she’s seen him since his father’s accident.

By early summer Soren outgrows children’s books. Ike starts bringing him short novels instead. He struggles with the lack of pictures at first and insists on reading the books out loud. Soren’s speech improves the more he reads and it’s not long before he’s speaking more eloquently than Ike.

This shifts their routine around since Ike no longer needs to look over Soren’s shoulder to correct him while he sounds out words. Instead of reading on the beach, Soren starts reading out loud to Ike while he fishes, bombarding him with questions about human culture between paragraphs. He grows fascinated with the concept of clothing to the point where Ike surprises him one day with a purple rash guard. It suits the siren almost too well and he refuses to take it off.

Summer afternoons and weekends see them spending a lot more time in the water together as Soren decides it’s his turn to teach Ike whatever he can about the water. Ike however, is a terrible student and lessons quickly dissolve into play. Soren’s easy to goad into splashing contests and races, even though he lets Ike win most of them.

Sometimes they just stretch out on the sand and talk about everything and nothing. Other times, Soren reads to him and Ike lets that smooth voice lull him into a sleep-like state. Soren often runs his fingers through Ike’s hair when he thinks he’s sleeping, and Ike has to force himself to stay still. A touch from Soren is rare and Ike savors every single one.

It’s during one of those moments when Ike’s phone goes off for the sixth time that day. Ike tries to ignore it, but Soren pinches his nose and drops the phone on his chest.

“Answer it,” Soren says. Cell phones still confuse him, but he understands their basic function at least.

“Don’t want to,” Ike grumbles, sitting up and swiping passed his lock screen, “It’s just Ranulf anyway.” Soren hums and turns the page of the boating magazine Ike brought for him.

“He’s been calling you a lot lately. Shouldn’t you talk to him?” He says.

“Nah. He just wants me to go drinking with him,” Ike scrolls through his notifications. Twenty nine texts, and nearly all of them are from Ranulf.

“And… you don’t want to go?” Soren asks. Ike grunts in the affirmative, “Why?”

“Cuz,” Ike drops his phone on the towel nearby and falls back into the sand, “He really wants to introduce me to some girl who likes me.”

“Is that a bad thing?” Soren turns his attention from his book towards Ike. His face is stoic as usual, but there’s something unreadable in his eyes that Ike can’t identify.

“It’s not… bad, exactly. It’s just… It’s complicated,” Ike rolls onto his stomach and into Soren’s shadow, “I don’t want to meet her.”

“Why not? I thought humans liked meeting other humans,” Soren draws his tail towards his body and Ike feels the urge to run his hands against the silken skin. It always looks so soft but Soren can be flighty; Ike doesn’t want to lose their close proximity so he resists.

“Yeah but this is different,” He grumbles, “If I go meet her, everyone will probably expect me to go out with her or something.”

Soren doesn’t respond right away. Enough time passes that Ike nearly forgets the topic at hand, content to fall asleep again in the sun.

“Is that because you’re… going out with me?” Soren finally says.

Ike chokes on absolutely nothing.

“ _Huh!?”_ He croaks once his coughing subsides.

“Well…” Soren fiddles with the webbing between his fingers, book long forgotten beside him, “I like you, and we’re out here… So we’re going out… right?” He shirks at the sight of Ike’s incredulous expression, “…is that… _not_ right?”

Ike rolls onto his back lets out a deep breath. Soren had become exceptionally articulate and very quickly, but he often misinterprets slang. Part of Ike is relieved, but the other part…

…Well, he’ll think about that later.

“No, I mean… It’s not… completely wrong, but it’s not what I meant. In this case _going out with_ means _dating_ ,” Ike watches Soren’s face carefully to gauge his response.  

“Dating,” Soren repeats, “You mean courting? Like like when an animal courts a mate?” Ike snorts.

“Yeah… kinda,” He can’t suppress his amused grin.

“You don’t want a mate, then?” Soren tilts his head to the side.

“I didn’t say that,” Ike mutters.

“Then you do want one,” Soren’s brow furrows.

“I didn’t say that either!” Ike groans.

“You’re confusing me,” Soren waves his hand in dismissal, and picks up his book again.

“Soren –” Ike struggles for the right words, “I… doesn’t your kind have rules and stuff about dating? Er, courting?”

Soren’s face grows serious and pensive. His silence makes Ike uneasy. Ike has never asked Soren about his race before, and Soren’s never brought it up.

Ike never suspected that there might be a reason for it.

“I wouldn’t know,” Soren says finally, avoiding Ike’s gaze as he does, “I don’t have a pod to swim with… Not anymore.”

“Oh…” Ike bites his cheek, “Sorry.”

Soren turns to him and lets his lips twitch into a tiny smile.

“It’s fine. I don’t need a pod,” He says with a teasing lilt, “I have you,”

Warmth seeps into Ike’s chest, and his heartbeat quickens.

“Yeah?” His voice is a little hoarse and he’s not sure why, “Well, it’s the same for me. I don’t want to date right now. I want to spend time with you,”

Soren hovers over him, the sun tracing the edges of his jaw with a faint light as his lips spread into a brilliant, toothy smile.

Ike stares up at him and swallows. The sunlight catches Soren’s hair just enough for Ike to notice the emerald hue. He reaches up to brush some loose strands away from his face, but Soren jolts backwards and dives back into the water before he can reach.

Ike bolts upright, staring at the ripples and trying not to panic.

Had he done something wrong?

He hears a faint rustling above him and looks up.

“Ike you jackass! Answer your goddamn phone!” Ranulf shouts from the top of the rock ledge. Ike groans and apologizes to Soren in his head. He must have heard Ranulf coming.

“What do you want, Ran?” Ike half-shouts. Ranulf looks down

“Oh there you are! I saw your truck so I just –” Ranulf clears his throat and squats on the ledge, “Anyway, the fuck are you doing down there?”

“Relaxing?” Ike gestures to the half-finished lunch and pile of books nearby.

“Without me!?” Ranulf grips his chest dramatically. Ike snorts.

“Didn’t seem your kind of scene,” He says.

“Yeah well, it’s not, and that is _exactly_ why _you_ will be accompanying me tonight to Largo’s bar,” He says with a resolute tone. Ike falls back into the sand and throws an arm over his face.

“Aw c’mon, Ran –” He whines.

“You owe me, Ike! No one’s seen you in like… _weeks_! You refuse to use snapchat, you don’t answer your phone, you won’t let me be your wingman –” Ranulf rambles. Ike rolls his eyes.

“Is that what this is about? You’re mad because I won’t let you set me up with some girl I don’t know?” Ike chides.

Ranulf at least has the sense to look sheepish.

“No! Well… not… totally. I mean,” He rubs his arm awkwardly, “I’m just… I’m worried about you, man. I’ve barely seen you since the accident.”

Ike feels the pang in his stomach as the guilt sets in immediately. Had it really been that long since they’d seen each other last? He’d been such a mess after the funeral that he hadn’t stopped to think much about it.

Ike lets out a long sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose – a habit he picked up from Soren.

“…I’ll go if you promise not to set me up with anyone,” He shouts. Ranulf leaps to his feet, and pumps his fist into the air.

“Yes! I mean, it sucks you won’t let me help you have fun, but also yes!” He points at Ike, “Tonight at six, ok? Largo’s bar!”

“Yeah, yeah. Largo’s at six. I got it,” He sits back up and shoos him away.

“I mean it Ike! If you’re not there, I will hunt you down drag you there myself!” Ranulf shouts. It’s a valid threat; he’d done it before.

“I’ll be there, Ranulf,” Ike assures him.

Finally satisfied, Ranulf turns back towards the trees humming to himself and tapping the screen of his phone.

Ike waits until he’s well out of sight before moving towards the water’s edge. He submerges his hand in the water and wriggles it around hoping Soren might see it.

“Soren? It’s ok to come out now –” With one swift tug, Ike topples head first into the water. He surfaces, sputtering and shaking the hair from his eyes. Soren peers up at him from close by.

“Is he gone?” He asks. Ike tries to glare at him, but it’s difficult for Ike to be mad over something like this. Instead, he pushes his hair out of his eyes and nods.

“Yeah, he’s gone,” Ike flicks some water at Soren’s face, but he barely even flinches.

“Good. I was getting bored,” He says, bumping Ike’s leg with his tail. Ike raises his eyebrow, recognizing the taunt for what it is.

“Well, we can’t have that now, can we?” Ike smirks, and tugs Soren under.


	2. Summer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Buhh... my pacing is just... all over the place.  
> Well, hopefully this lands.

Ike reluctantly parts with Soren at sunset, exhausted but relaxed as always. He dreads spending the next few hours in a bar as he’d much rather spend it at home or at the beach, but Ranulf is right; he hasn’t seen his friends in a very long time.

It’s his own fault, really, for not making the effort. He was the only one who stayed in town after graduation. Everyone else either went to college out of state or went to the city for better job opportunities. Ike could have followed suit but… fishing is in his blood. It feels wrong somehow to leave it behind.

After a couple years his friends got new lives, new jobs, found new places to hang out, and met new people while Ike stayed in the town he grew up in. It hadn’t bothered him at first. He loved fishing, and he loved spending time with his family, so watching his friends move on with their lives had been bearable.

He was happy for them.

But with Mist off at college, the family business reduced to a solo operation and his father dead, Ike has started to resent the people who left him behind.

His friends moved forward and Ike remains stuck.

But somehow his resentment and his feeling of isolation have dissipated after meeting Soren – not completely, but enough that he feels confident hanging out with his friends and without feeling like an absolute failure.

Largo’s bar is more of a pub which is probably why it’s the only bar Ike doesn’t actively avoid. He’s not one for crowds of loud drunks, music with more bass than melody or the rancid smell of yeast and alcohol, but hand cut fries with malt vinegar are good and he never says no to chicken wings.

Ranulf waves to him from a small table away from the bar and the dance floor. A basket of fries and two orders of wings already on the table and their friend Boyd is making short work of them. Ike squeezes through the throng of sweaty beach goers, fisherman, and locals and collapses into his chair. Ranulf laughs and Boyd slaps him on the back.

“Hey, man! You made it!” Ranulf says with a cat-like grin.

“Got you a beer,” Boyd tears the meat off of a drumstick in his usual crude manner. Ike’s still not sure what his sister sees in him. He certainly doesn’t fit her childhood ideal of a tall dark and handsome prince charming, but he treats her well so Ike doesn’t dwell on it too much.

Boyd’s a good guy though and one if Ike’s best friends. If there’s anyone he trusts with Mist, it’s him.

“Thanks. Good to see you, Boyd,” Ike’s not fond of beer unless it’s incredibly hot outside, the beer is ice cold and he’s on a boat. In every other setting it makes him a little queasy. Still, he’d rather a beer than try ordering a soda or one of those fancy mixed drinks he sees girls drinking every now and then. Everyone he knows adheres to these weird rules about who should drink what and when and Ike is far from being able to understand them. All he knows is that guys like him are supposed to drink beer so he does.

“Just Boyd? What about me!?” Ranulf whines.

“I saw you this afternoon,” Ike sips the foam off the top of his lager.

“That doesn’t count!” Ranulf protests with a big swig.

“It counts. But man, it’s been what? Four, five months since I’ve been back here? Fuck man, time flies,” Boyd shakes his head, “What’s new with you anyway?”

Ike dips some fries in the malt vinegar and chews thoughtfully. Besides the shit show with Shinon and Gatrie quitting on him shortly after he took over his family’s fishing operation, the only thing truly new in Ike’s life is Soren and he’s not sure Soren’s something he can talk about with other people.

He offers a noncommittal shrug and a, “Not much, what’s new with you?” when Ranulf slams his hands on the table in excitement as a new song starts playing.

“Oh shit, Boyd! This is that one song I was telling you about!” He says.

“What song…? Oh! That burrito place song. The one where that girl –” Boyd grins.

“Yeah, yeah! That one. Fuck, ok, so I went back there last week right? And she was there again, so I –”

Ike snickers and idly sips his beer.

He’s missed this.

\-----

It’s thirty minutes and nine chicken wings, and one basket of fries later when Ike starts zoning out.  Ranulf and Boyd hop from one topic to the next with a speed Ike can usually keep up with… only this time they’re talking about things Ike has no connection to.

It’s not surprising. Both Boyd and Ranulf live in the same area and run in similar circles, so of course they’d have a lot to talk about. The topics are interesting at least, but Ike doesn’t know the people they’re talking about and he’s never been to the places they’re describing so it’s a little difficult to find a place to add his two cents.

Or to find the will to care.

He feels a bit… ostracized, that’s the word for it. Like he’s on the outside looking in; like he’s not really a part of this three way friendship, he’s just visiting.

Soren’s face flits through his mind and Ike squashes the overwhelming the urge to see him. He’s spending time with two of his good friends he hasn’t seen in forever, and he wants to make the best of it, damnit.

“Ike, is that still your first beer?!” Ranulf sounds personally offended at the prospect.

“Um, yes?” Ike says, swirling it around.

“Seriously? Shit, sorry. Let’s get another!” Boyd downs the rest of his and scoots his chair back in an effort to stand.

“Nah, that’s ok. I’m not big on beer, you know that,” Ike dunks a couple more fries. Boyd and Ranulf exchange perplexed looks, and sit back down.

Ike will never understand what they see in beer.

There’s a bit of an awkward silence that follows. Ranulf breaks it.

“Soooo… what’s new with you, Ike?” Ranulf chirps. Ike quirks a brow at him.

“You already asked that,” He says, “And like I said before, not much.”

“There’s gotta be something,” Boyd says, “I mean, what do you _do_ all day?”

“…Fish?” Ike offers with a shrug.

“Yeah but besides that,” Ranulf waves his hand dismissively.

“That’s… really it,” Ike replies.

“Really? So today you just fished and what, chilled on the beach by yourself?” Ranulf’s voice is full of disbelief, “Sorry Ike, but I don’t buy it. I mean, what the hell were you doing with all those books anyway? When did you become a bookworm?”

“Oh those weren’t for me those were for Sor–” Ike halts mid-word.

He shouldn’t have said that.

He really, _really_ shouldn’t have said that.

“Ah-HAH!” Ranulf exclaims with an accusatory finger pointed right at Ike, “I _knew_ it! You’ve been seeing someone!”

Boyd chokes with his mouth full of chicken and Ike’s not sure what to say so he keeps his mouth shut.

“Seeing someone? This guy?” Boyd gestures to Ike with his thumb and snorts, “That’s a good joke, Ran.”

“I’m not seeing anyone,” Ike mumbles into his glass.

“See?” Boyd says.

“I don’t buy it,” Ranulf scowls, arms folded across his chest, “That scene from earlier looked like a date to me! Like a… a… picnic at the beach or something. I heard voices, Ike! Someone else was there, I just know it.”

“No one else was –” Ike sighs. He’s a terrible liar, and Ranulf’s sharp. Best to just bite the bullet and get things over with quickly, “Fine, someone else was there. Happy?”

Boyd looks intrigued, Ranulf cocky.

“A bit. I’ll be happier if I get a name,” Ike fights the urge to shove a fistful of fries into Ranulf’s stupid smug grin.

“No,” Ike grunts instead.

“It wouldn’t happen to be… _Soren_ , now would it?” Ranulf’s tone feigns innocence, but Ike’s too stunned to be annoyed by it.

“How did you…?” He asks. He’s never mentioned Soren, not once. How on earth did Ranulf guess correctly? He scoffs and leans on the table.

Boyd looks a little uncomfortable.

“You mentioned it when I called you last time,” Ranulf makes a poor attempt at impersonating Ike’s voice, “Good idea, Ranulf! I can get some books for Soren!”

Ike remembers saying that.

Once.

Vaguely.

He might also remember some texts from Ranulf about it that he ignored.

Ike groans into his hands.

“So who’s this Soren, Ike?” Ranulf asks in a sing-song voice, “Is he the son of your older girlfriend? Or maybe,” He fakes a gasp, “your boyfriend!?”

Boyd looks even more uncomfortable.

“No and no,” Ike grunts, “He’s…” Ike fumbles for the words. He can’t lie, but he can spin the truth… maybe, “He’s someone who helps me fish from time to time and… uh, in exchange I’ve been teaching him to read.”

Ike isn’t sure what kind of reaction to expect, but stunned silence certainly isn’t at the top of his list.

It’s what he gets, though.

Ranulf recovers first.

“You’re… teaching him to _read_?!” He gapes, “You!? You _hate_ reading. What the fuck?”

“Hey, I don’t… hate it, I’m just not… very… good at it,” Ike says.

“Wait, why are you teaching him to read? How old is he?” Boyd asks, uncharacteristically careful in his choice of words.

“I dunno… About our age I guess? I never asked,” Do merfolk age the same way humans do? Ike makes a mental note to ask Soren later. “He didn’t really speak… uh, English when we met, so…” He just wants to let the topic drop, but it doesn’t seem like Ranulf will let it.

“He what?!” Ranulf exclaims. Boyd probably would have had a similar reaction had his mouth not been occupied with another chicken wing, “Ike, what the fuck? Who the hell is this guy?!”

“Why is this such a big deal!?” Ike blurts out, “Can’t I have friends you don’t know!?”

“That’s not what I –” Ranulf tries to talk, but Ike won’t let him.

He’s had enough for one night.

“So I’ve got one friend you don’t know, big deal. You guys just spent an hour talking about all these people I don’t know and shit I’ve never seen,” He growls.

“Look man, we’re just worried about you –” Ranulf says hurriedly.

“Fantastic,” Ike snarls, “Join the party. Seems like that’s all anyone says to me these days,” Ranulf’s expression darkens.

“Well maybe if you fucking _called us_ once in a while, we wouldn’t be so _fucking worried,_ ” He spits back.

“And talk about _what_ , Ranulf?” Ike knows he’s being ridiculous. He’s usually exceptionally patient, especially with Ranulf, and there’s no need to be this angry, but he can’t stop the words from tumbling out of his mouth, “I haven’t called because I don’t want to talk! I don’t want to talk about my life. I don’t want to call you guys just so I can listen to you talk about how everything’s so great with you and so I can feel like I’m doing everything fucking wrong. I feel like enough of a fucking screw up without everyone reminding me of it, so you’ll have to _forgive me_ if there’s just one good thing in my life that I want to keep to myself,”

Boyd and Ranulf stare at him, bewildered and confused at the uncharacteristic outburst.

They hadn’t been expecting it. Hell, _Ike_ hadn’t expected it. He barely let himself think these things let alone admit them out loud.

And not to his friends.

God, he feels like an asshole.

“Sorry, I’m just… gonna go home. I’ll… see you around… I guess,” Ike says, voice barely audible above the din of the bar. He fishes a twenty out of his wallet, puts it under his half-drunk beer and leaves without another word.

He really wants to see Soren.

Boyd catches up with him just as Ike reaches his truck.

Ike steels himself. He doesn’t want to blow up again, but emotions are bubbling in his chest and he’s not sure he can contain them. He’s not angry, he’s just… just…

“Hey,” Boyd says. Ike turns around to face him but doesn’t say anything, “Don’t be too mad at Ranulf, ok? He’s been a wreck since your accident back in March. Thinks you might, I dunno… not… take care of yourself or something,” Ike shows no signs of talking so Boyd sighs and continues, “Look, I know what you’re going through and _before you say anything_ , I don’t mean it like that, it’s just…” He trails off a bit, “I’ve been watching Mist go through the same thing.”

That gets Ike’s attention.

“She never mentioned…” He mutters. Ike has regular calls with Mist. While usually short, she crams as much as she can into their conversations. It stings a bit to know that she’s felt this way for so long and not said anything.

“I don’t think she wants you to know. Hell, she barely tells _me_ anything and I live with her,” He pauses for a moment, “Look Ike, I’ll be honest… Mist thinks you have a death wish and _before you say it_ I know you don’t, ok? It’s just that… you had that close call so soon after the funeral… I mean, you guys just lost Greil and then that? She’s terrified she’s going to lose you, man. Ranulf too”

“…Oh…” Ike hadn’t thought of it that way. In his eyes, his accident had been a positive thing. Stupid, but positive. It was how he met Soren, after all. He knew Mist had been upset about it, but he didn’t think she’d been _that_ upset.

“Yeah, so there was that, and then Ranulf called and asked her about this Soren person and she freaked out all over again because there’s no one in this town with that name and now she thinks you have an imaginary friend,” Boyd mutters.

Ike blinks.

“A… what?” He asks.

“An imaginary friend,” Boyd grunts like he’s reluctant to say it, “Like, you’re depressed and hallucinating or whatever.”

“What…?” Boyd kicks a rock and avoids looking at Ike’s incredulous expression, “That’s the stupidest – I’m not crazy! I know I’ve been a bit of a hermit lately, but c’mon!”

Boyd manages a weak smile.

“I know, man, I get you. But try telling them that. Those two just… feed off each other and it kind of blows everything out of proportion,” He shoves his hands in his pockets, “Besides, in a town this size, everybody knows _everybody_. You can’t really blame them for worrying about you getting mixed up with someone they’ve never even heard of.”

That’s reasonable. Ike would probably feel the same way if the situation was flipped.

“Just… text us a picture or something,” Boyd suggests, “I think it’d make them feel better. Titania too, if you can. She’s been nagging me since you don’t call her either.”

“A picture?” Ike repeats, “Of…?”

“You and Soren,” Boyd says, “You know, so they can _see_ that you’re doing well instead of worrying all the goddamn time.”

Ike mulls the idea over in his head. He’s not sure how Soren would respond to a photo. He barely understands the purpose of Ike’s phone as it is.

He does like the idea of having a picture of Soren for himself though.

“I’ll ask him,” He says.

“That’s all I can ask for,” Boyd says with a toothy grin. He lightly punches Ike on the shoulder, “Text Ranulf when you get back, ok? He’s pretty freaked out. Thinks you’re pissed at him,” Ike rubs the back of his neck, a little guilty and a touch regretful.

“Right, I’ll do that,” He says. Boyd smiles and walks back across the parking lot. Ike calls to him before he gets far, “Hey, Boyd?”

“Yeah?” Boyd looks over his shoulder. Ike manages a small smile.

“Thanks,” He says, and he means it.

“Yeah, don’t mention it. You’re the third brother I never asked for, Ike,” He snickers, and walks back into the bar.

Ike stares after him for a minute. Boyd may look and act like a bit of a meathead, but he’s always been weirdly astute when it comes to people.

Ike’s lucky to have him as a friend.

\-----

“This seems like a stupid idea,” Soren grumbles and crosses his arms. His tail flicks in annoyance.

Ike sits on the crate next to him and leans back against the rail of the boat.

“It’s just a picture,” He says, pulling up the photo app on his phone and swiping through a few like that would make the prospect more appealing.

“It’s a picture _anyone_ can _see_ ,” Soren stresses. He sneaks brief glances at the phone and fidgets on his perch.

“Not _anyone_ ,” Ike clarifies, “Just the people I show it to.”

“Which could be anyone,” Soren’s tail knocks against Ike’s shin.

“Look, it’s either this or my friends and my sister are going to try to come meet you in person,” Soren stares at Ike in genuine horror, “Sooo… what’s it gonna be? Photo? Or meeting people face to face?” Ike nearly laughs at the glowering scrunch of Soren’s features.

“Photo,” Soren grunts reluctantly, “But Ike… are you sure this is ok? I… don’t really look like you…”

A misleading statement, but Ike gets it. Soren’s near-white skin, hairless eyebrow markings and red eyes are a beautiful combination, but they’re not typical of a human. Then again, humans have a weird inclination for dying hair, plucking brows and wearing colored contacts and by those standards, Soren’s looks are quite tame.

“It’ll be fine,” He grins and pulls up the camera app, “Now c’mon, smile!”

“Smile? Why do I have to smile?” Soren jumps when the phone’s timer hits zero and it snaps an audible photo.

“Why? So people know you’re happy,” Ike says, reframing their faces on the screen. He has to be careful not to photography anything below Soren’s shoulders or else he’ll be subject to a pretty intense line of questioning.

“Why do they care if I’m happy?” His tone is cynical, but it’s a genuine question.

The camera snaps another picture and refreshes the countdown.

“Well…” Ike racks his brain for a good answer, “They care if I’m happy right? Seeing you smile makes me happy, soooo…”

Soren’s skin isn’t the kind to change colors with his mood the way a human’s normally does, but Ike can tell when he’s flustered or embarrassed by the way his brow markings arch and furrow. It’s cute enough to split Ike’s cheeks in two with how wide he’s smiling.

The camera snaps another picture as Soren shyly peeks up at him. Smile never faltering, Ike holds his gaze and lets the camera snap another, and another.

And then it happens.

It’s small and shy and the slightest bit uncertain, but that smile spreads across Soren’s lips just as the digital shutter clicks. Ike pulls him in closer, turns so they’re both facing the camera, and lets it capture them one more time.

Soren’s stiff and steaming against Ike’s shoulder and it’s making him a little nervous. His hands quiver slightly as he taps the screen of his phone, navigating to the photos app. He glances at Soren out of the corner of his eye.

“You uh… wanna see them?” Ike asks. The smile is gone from Soren’s face but he nods and scoots a little closer. Ike lets Soren swipe through the photos – Ike’s phone fascinates him, though he never admits it – and waits for a reaction. He doesn’t get one, at least, not a verbal one. The more Soren swipes between photos, the more his expression darkens. Finally he lets his hands fall into his lap and turns away.

“What’s wrong?” Ike asks. The photos came out great, as far as Ike’s concerned. What was there to be upset about?

Soren fiddles with the webbing of his fingers.

“…I look weird,” He mumbles. Ike nudges his shoulder.

“No you don’t, you look great,” He says, “You’re even smiling in this one.”

“I look _weird,_ ” Soren stresses the final word like it holds some sort of special meaning that Ike’s not aware of.

“Yeah, well, I like the way you look,” Ike states simply, “Here, look at this one,” He holds the phone out and waits for Soren to look.

It’s easily his favorite of the dozen or so taken but it’s not one he can send to his friends and family. It’s a bit of a strange angle, neither of them are looking at the camera, but Soren’s smile is shy and sweet, and looking so in love that –

Ike stills mid-thought.

“You don’t think I look weird?” Soren fixes Ike with those red, red eyes and Ike’s heart leaps into his throat.

“No,” He squeaks, then clears his throat, “No, not at all. You look great.”

Soren’s lips quirk upwards only slightly and Ike feels his mouth go dry.

“…Ok. If… that’s the case then,” Soren taps a photo of both of them facing the camera, small smiles on their faces and the ocean just barely visible in the background, “Send them this one.”

 “Right! Yeah, I’ll uh, I’ll do that,” Ike curses himself for stumbling over such a simple response.

What the hell is wrong with him? He was fine up until a moment ago. Cool as a cucumber. Now he’s shaking like a leaf and did the sun come out, or did it just get ten degrees warmer?

Soren gives him an odd look and Ike panics. He reaches into his bag with a little too much gusto and pulls out a couple of new paperbacks.

“I uh, got some new books for you,” He relaxes a bit when Soren spots them. His eyes light up as he scans the titles and flips them over to read the back.

It buys Ike just enough time to compose himself.

“These sound… a little different from the books you usually bring,” Soren notes.

“That’s because they’re romance novels,” Ike says, “We were talking about the whole dating thing the other day and there’s no way I’m ever going to be able to explain it well so… I thought it might be better to read about it instead.” Soren doesn’t respond right away and Ike begins to sweat.

“What’s a… _‘mermaid’_?” Soren says with a quizzical frown. Ike takes a deep breath and taps the cover where a woman covered conveniently placed scales gazes longingly at a shirtless man on the beach.

“It’s a word for people who are kind of like you,” He says.

“Like… me?” Soren repeats slowly, “I… thought humans called us ‘sirens’…”

“Siren…? Wait is that what you were trying to say to me that one time…?” Ike thinks back to their second meeting and feels just a touch embarrassed.

“You finally noticed,” Soren says with a smirk, “I guess… ‘siren’ isn’t a very common term, then,”

“Sorry,” Soren cocks his head to the side in confusion at Ike’s apology, “I didn’t realize… I mean, your name – if you want a different one, we can –” Soren just laughs at him.

“I _like_ my name. You gave it to me,” Soren’s hand is on his thigh and whatever composure Ike had managed to scrape together is long gone now.

He’s saved any potential self-inflicted humiliation by Soren carefully opening the first book. He has precious few minutes before Soren starts reading it to him out loud, so Ike turns his attention to his phone and the unwritten mass-text he has yet to send.

Soren’s smiling face stares back at him from the screen and Ike’s pulse quickens.

\-----

It’s official.

Ike regrets having borrowed a romance novel from the library.

Or rather, he shouldn’t have let Soren read it out loud. What the hell made him think that he could listen to that buttery smooth voice read the faintly erotic adventures of a mermaid and a human and not turn into a hot mess? They’ve barely made it halfway through the book and Ike’s head is already swimming with ideas that are definitely not safe for all ages.

There was no way he’d survive a second day of this. Especially since the main characters have barely even kissed yet. That means there at least two sex scenes to go and Ike is going to have to listen to Soren read them.

Out loud.

He stares up at his bedroom ceiling like it’s judging him and blatantly ignores the slight tent in his shorts as he kicks off what’s left of his covers. It’s far too hot in his bedroom even with all the windows open.

The screen of his phone lights up as yet another text message comes in. Mist and Ranulf have been texting him constantly since he sent them the photo so it’s likely one of them digging for more information about Ike’s new… _friend_.

_Friend._

Ike doesn’t like the way that word sits on his tongue, not as far as Soren is concerned. It doesn’t feel the same way it does with Boyd or Ranulf. Soren feels… different somehow. Being with Soren is relaxing and exhilarating in equal measures. It’s like that feeling he gets after taking off ankle weights after wearing them all day; light, springy and strong. 

Friends don’t make him feel that way. Hell, not even his family makes him feel that way. He loves their company, sure, but in smaller doses. A few hours is more than enough to leave him feeling a bit drained.

But… Soren doesn’t have that effect on him. He could spend an entire day silent in Soren’s company and still feel completely at ease. In fact he’s done it, and he wants to do it again.

And again, and again, and again…

He rolls onto his side and stares at the faint glow from his phone.

Ike knows what the problem is, the reason why the word _friend_ doesn’t suit Soren. He knows because of a stupid library book read by a stupidly beautiful voice that belongs to a stupidly amazing person.

Ike knows he wants Soren.

Wants him like that muscled prince wants his busty mermaid. He wants to try lacing their fingers together and fail because the webbing’s in the way. He wants to curl up on his couch and fall asleep watching boring movies together. He wants to see that deep green hair splayed out on his pillows with nothing but the moon to light him. He wants breakfast, lunch and dinner filled with laughing red eyes and pearly white teeth.

Ike _wants._

But…

He rolls over to face the ceiling again.

Life isn’t a fairy tale. It’s not a romance novel or a chick flick or a Saturday night sitcom. Real life comes with real problems that no sea witch or fairy godmother can fix.

The reality is, Soren’s a mermaid – a siren. He belongs to the sea the way Ike belongs to the land and there’s nothing that will change that.

They could compromise, surely. Ike could find a waterfront property, or a house with an indoor saltwater pool, or maybe a houseboat, but the fundamental issues would remain unchanged. They can’t share a bed, or go out to eat. He can’t introduce Soren to anyone he knows. Their relationship, whatever shape it takes, is locked to the sea, and doomed to remain a secret.

And yet…

Even with all the obstacles, the restrictions, and the things he can’t have, he still wants Soren by his side and no one else.

Ike knows love isn’t always enough but…

It’s all he has.

\-----

Acceptance of his feelings comes with some mixed results. Ike oscillates between elation at Soren’s constant company and depression at the impossibility of a promising future together – as a couple, at least.

Ike tries not to think about it but as summer drags on it gets harder and harder to ignore his feelings.

Especially when Ike suspects they might, in fact, be reciprocated.

He catches Soren sneaking fond glances at him – although it’s never been difficult to catch him in the act. Soren isn’t subtle in his gestures the way he thinks he is.

Day by day, Soren grows sweeter, more playful. He leans into Ike’s innocent touches like an affectionate kitten starved for attention. It’s a far cry from the distrustful, frightened creature that saved him from drowning all those months ago.

It’s enough to give him hope.

Ike takes comfort in the idea that Soren’s still ignorant of his own feelings, or at least doesn’t understand what they mean within context of human dynamics. It means that Ike can move and act somewhat freely without his feelings being discovered, and he can resist the urge to push their relationship in a new direction knowing that Soren is still blissfully unaware and unassuming.

Regardless, he enjoys the time they spend together, fishing, talking, swimming… if that’s all he can ever have with Soren, then… he’ll have to make his peace with that.

To Ike’s surprise, Soren requests more romance novels and continues to read most of them aloud with a near clinical fascination. He finds their contents frustrating at times especially with misunderstandings and miscommunications between the protagonists. He questions everything and Ike answers the best he can but it’s not always enough to sate Soren’s immense curiosity towards the intricacies of human interaction.

Ike enjoys the fact that Soren’s interested in the romantic relationships between humans, but having to listen to that silver tongue recount tales of torrid sexual affairs and heart-stopping confessions rouses intense emotions Ike doesn’t feel equipped to handle anywhere but in the privacy of his own bedroom.

By the end of the second book, Ike barely manages to follow the plot, too preoccupied with daydreams about a possible future together.

As they reach the peak of summer, Ike finds himself longing after at Soren’s long, sleek form stretched out on the deck of his boat, tail flicking with a book in his hands. Ike’s desire to touch him, to massage his hands down that glossy black length, is incredibly strong; he only manages to resist the urge occasionally. Soren, however, welcomes these touches, arching into them and making low, low humming noises that buzz beneath Ike’s palms as he kneads the firm flesh. It’s only when Soren rolls onto his back and stares up at Ike with a small, shy smile that Ike comes to his senses and manages to tear himself away.

Soren’s disappointed gaze lingers on him long after his hands are free.

During the retelling of a particularly raunchy sex scene, Soren slams the book closed in a huff and promptly demands that Ike explain the ins and outs of human intercourse. He can’t understand what the scenes are describing what with their talk of members, rods, bosoms, slits and god knows what else and he’s sick of being confused.

Ike panics, face flushed from the heat of the sun and the residual effects of Soren’s erotica, and finally just throws his phone at the fuming merman. Ike pulls up Wikipedia in a browser and with a couple of extremely brief instructions, leaves Soren to find his own answers.

The only thing Ike hears for the rest of the day is the thundering sound of his own heartbeat.

 -----

Ike walks down the docks early the following morning nervous as hell. Soren had barely said a word to him after passing back his phone, but his embarrassment was easy to see.

Maybe now, after researching the reasoning and mechanics behind human sex and relationships, Soren will look at him differently, will _see_ him differently. Maybe he’ll be willing to explore the possibilities.

The thought both thrills and terrifies him.

 Ike lets out a deep breath to calm his nerves.

He unloads his spare tackle, backpack and gas can and waits for Soren to pop out of the water with a quiet, “Good morning, Ike.”

The sun is well past risen and the rest of the fishing boats are long gone before Ike realizes he’s not coming.

\-----

It’s amazing how long a day can be when you’re alone.

Ike spends several of them in agonizing boredom and crippling anxiety. He loves fishing, but it feels tedious when there’s no one to talk to. He checks the surface of the surrounding sea about as often as a high school girl checks her phone and feels his heart sink just a little further every time Soren’s face fails to appear.

He can feel the loneliness closing in on him. It’s the same heavy pressure that haunted him in the months after his father’s death and he hates it.

Ike takes back all his wishes about reciprocated feelings and futures and prays that somewhere, somehow, Soren is happy and safe.

He takes to walking the beach at night, too restless to stay at home and too wired to sleep. Ranulf and Mist keep asking how he’s doing, and Ike’s at a loss of how to respond, so he just… doesn’t. He knows he’s slipping back into bad habits but he can’t muster the will to pull himself out of it.

The beach tempts him to spend the night. It’s balmy, and the sound of the waves keep some of his intrusive thoughts at bay, so it’s not a completely terrible idea. If he wasn’t certain that the Harbormaster would kick his ass upon arrival the next morning, he’d probably go through with it.

A soft voice shakes him from his thoughts.

“Ike…?” It says.

Ike’s head snaps up.

He knows that voice. He’s been dying to hear it for days.

A shadow slithers atop a nearby rock and Ike breaks into a run. He tackles it into the sand, and holds it tight.

“ _Soren,_ ” He shudders with relief, releasing his hold just enough to get a good look at Soren’s face, “Where the hell have you been!?”

Ike’s missed him so much.

Soren doesn’t say anything, just smiles down at Ike and draws cool, damp fingers across his cheek. It’s sweet enough to make his eyes burn with the threat of tears and his throat tighten with all the things he wants to say.

“Sorry,” Soren says after a long, long moment. He eases back into the sand to let Ike sit up.

“You disappeared,” Ike hates how weak and cracked his voice sounds but Soren is here – _here_ – and he can’t be bothered to care, “I… I thought…”

“I know,” Soren says quietly, almost shameful, “I’m sorry.”

Ike brushes some loose hair away from his pale face, trembling and praying Soren doesn’t notice how shaken he is.

“Are you ok?” He asks. Soren finally grants him a small smile.

“Yes, I’m fine,” He leans into Ike’s hand and Ike immediately relaxes, “I just wanted some time to think.”

“To think about what?” He rubs a thumb against Soren’s cheek, marveling at the fact that he’s actually here.

“About humans,” Soren closes his eyes and lets Ike touch him, “About you.”

Ike feels his pulse quicken.

“A-and…?” Ike urges gently.

Soren pulls back and draws his hands through the sand.

“Can I ask you a question…Ike?” Ike swallows and nods, “How… important is love to a human?”

 The question itself is odd and something he’s never really thought much about. Of all the things Soren could have asked, why this?

“I… think it depends on the person,” He answers after giving it some thought, “But I think most people consider it to be very important.”

“Then what about you? How important is love to you?’ Soren’s eyes are wide and pleading, but for what Ike doesn’t know.

“I… I’m not sure,” He says honestly, “If love finds me, I’ll welcome it. If it doesn’t, then I won’t. So I suppose it would be important if I have it and not important if I don’t?” He rubs the back of his neck, “Sorry that… probably wasn’t helpful.”

“No, it was. It was…” Soren’s voice blends into sound of the waves behind them.

“Hey,” Ike slips his hand on top of Soren’s, “What’s this really about?”

Soren digs his fingers into the sand and looks away.

“It’s nothing, I just…” When he looks back, his eyes are glistening, “Ike you’re all I have,” He whispers. Ike opens his mouth to say something, anything, but Soren doesn’t give him the chance, “There’s already so many people… humans… in your life… that if one day you find one who loves you, I –” His voice cracks, “I don’t know what I’ll do.”

Ike furrows his brow. He doesn’t like where this is heading.

“Why are you talking like you’ll lose me?” Ike says, lowering himself to get a better look at Soren’s face.

“Because I will!” Soren cries, “I will, I…” He presses a palm against his eyes and chokes on his words.

“You won’t,” Ike assures him, “But why do you think that? Did I do something?”

“No…” Soren fiddles with the webbing between his fingers, “But that’s what happens in the books, right? Whenever the hero falls in love they leave everything behind. Their friends, their family, their… their _home_ … anything that was important to them suddenly doesn’t matter.”

Ike finally understands why Soren vanished. The good intentions he had in selecting the book Soren read backfired on him. They preyed on Soren’s fears abandonment and inadequacy.

They’re baseless fears, but Soren doesn’t know that, doesn’t believe it, and Ike’s never said anything to the contrary.

“Those are just stories, Soren,” He says, “Things don’t really turn out like that. Not really.”

“How can you be sure?” Soren’s voice is hoarse and strained, “Ha-have you ever… fallen in love?”

Those words knock the wind from Ike’s lungs because he has, he _has._ Not before now, not before Soren.

But what does he say? He can’t lie. He can’t say he’s never fallen when he’s fallen far enough to walk by the real estate office every morning to look at the window for affordable waterfront properties just so he can be that much closer to Soren.

He loves, he wants, but he’s not sure Soren is ready to hear the words he wants to say.

But… if he doesn’t say it now, he never will.

He inhales deeply, and bets it all.

“I have,” He says firmly, softly, “With you.”

Soren just looks at him, confused and a little hurt.

“With me?” Soren shakes his head, “Ike, be serious.”

“I am serious,” Ike takes Soren’s hands in his and waits until Soren looks him in the eye, heart pounding hard enough to shake his whole body, “I’m in love with you.”

Soren’s eyes are wide and uncertain, so Ike waits. He rubs his thumb across the back of Soren’s hands and holds his searching stare. He’s ready for Soren’s response, whatever that may be.

It’s a long while before Soren speaks.

“You can’t be,” His lower lip wobbles with each word whispered.

“I can, and I am,” Ike assures. He squeezes the hands beneath his.

“No, you can’t, _you can’t_ ,” Soren’s eyes squeeze shut, “We’re too different, Ike, we… I can’t do it.”

“…Why not?” His heart sinks in his chest, but only a little. Saying he can’t isn’t the same as saying he doesn’t want to.

Waves crash behind them; a sign that the tide is coming in.

“Because we’re different, _I’m_ different… There’s just… too many things I can’t give you and… and…” He chokes, “One day you’ll realize that another human would be better, and I can’t –”

Ike cups Soren’s face in his hands.

“Soren, listen to me,” His words shake with the force of his feelings, “That won’t happen. The only things you can’t give me are things I don’t want.”

Soren stares at him like he’s forgotten the meaning of the words, but he doesn’t move, doesn’t blink. He simply holds the honest gaze of Ike’s blue, blue eyes and lets himself crumble beneath it.

Silently, he cries.

Ike lets him; waits for the heaving to calm and his breathing to steady, wipes the tears that don’t fall and lets him catch his breath.

And then Ike kisses him.

His lips are sweet and salty from the sea, cool, pliant and shy. Soren jerks back, but Ike follows and he yields without further protest. Ike lets his hands wander down Soren’s sides and around his back, catching him as he falls boneless onto the sand.

They part breathing heavily, Soren marveling at the man above him like he’s something incredible. He reaches up, brushes sand from Ike’s cheek, then relaxes into the most breathtaking smile Ike has ever seen.

Ike kisses it.

Again and again and again.

Soren’s hands finally find purchase around Ike’s shoulders and he pulls him close. He arcs, moans and squirms in the sand until Ike straddles him and lets his long, black tail anchor itself on Ike’s leg.  

Soren’s slick with seawater, slippery to the touch and Ike really wants to strip down so he can feel it against his skin. He settles for licking Soren’s lips instead, shifting and twisting until Soren lets him inside, lets him breathe the same air.

Another wave crashes against the shore, a little too close for comfort. Ike tries to pull back but it’s Soren who chases after him this time, clawing at his back.

Ike smiles and kisses him again.

Deep, deep, deep. Over and over again until they’re both too hot, too dazed to do anything but lean into each other and bask at the pleasant thrills humming beneath their skin.

“I wish I could take you home with me,” Ike murmurs against his lips. Soren kisses him once more, feather-light and fleeting.

“Come home with me instead,” He whispers, cool fingertips tracing Ike’s flushed cheeks.

“Home?” He mumbles absently.

Soren pushes lightly at Ike’s chest and whispers, “Follow me.”

Soren disappears beneath the next wave and motions for Ike to follow, back to their familiar cove, then around a tall rock. There’s a narrow crevice just large enough at the base for Ike to squeeze through with a little effort. His sneakers are soaked but he barely notices, too keen on what’s to come to worry about wet socks.

Moonlight filters in from some gaps in the ceiling, just enough to see, although it takes Ike’s eyes a moment to adjust.

The inside is polished stone, filled with odds and ends. Broken jars stuck together with mud, piles of seaglass, shells, driftwood and the occasional piece of fishing tackle. It’s a bit like a treasure trove, a personal shrine, and Ike can’t help but feel a little special for being the one Soren shows it to.

Soren leads him out of the shallow water and onto smooth stone. Part of him wants to explore the cave a bit more, but the beautiful man before him pulls him into another deep kiss and everything else just fades away.

It’s clumsy and easy to see that Soren has no experience beyond what he gained mere minutes before. Ike’s not much better, but he has a firmer grasp on the theory and does what he can to coax Soren into better positions. Like with most things, Soren’s a quick study and his skills soon outstrip Ike, although he’s more than happy to let him lead.

He pulls away just long enough to pull his t-shirt over his head, welcoming Soren’s curious hands on his chest. They roll across Ike’s nipples, curious and experimental.

Ike reciprocates, sliding his hands beneath Soren’s rash guard and slipping it over his head in anticipation of pert black nipples, but he finds only a flat expanse of smooth skin. Disappointment pricks him as he realizes Soren lacks them entirely.

It feels a bit strange for them not to be there.

Suddenly, Ike feels very unprepared for the direction they’re heading. Soren has spent at least a month reading about sex with humans and familiarizing himself with their anatomy, but what has Ike been doing in the meantime? Mermaids were obviously different from humans anatomically, that had to mean that sex would be different too.

Ike’s heart sinks when he realizes what this means – what Soren meant when he said there would be too many things he couldn’t give to Ike. 

Soren notices his hesitation and fear creeps onto his face.

“…Ike…?” He asks, voice quivering.

Ike smiles and strokes Soren’s hair. It’s a gesture meant to comfort but the visible apprehension doesn’t leave.

“I don’t know how this works,” He confesses, “I mean, I know how it works between humans, but… I don’t know much about you – or mermaids, uh, sirens.” Nervousness replaces the fear on Soren’s face.

“I…” He swallows, “I’m honestly not sure I can um… satisfy you,” He hides behind one of his hands and looks away, “I um… may lack the parts… to um…”

Ike sighs and tugs Soren’s rash guard over his head, planting a quick kiss on his lips.

“That’s not important,” He says more to himself than to Soren, “What’s important is that we feel good together. The rest doesn’t matter.”

Soren visibly relaxes.

“Alright,” He breaths. He pulls Ike in to another deep kiss, tail arching between Ike’s legs. Ike jolts at the sudden pressure against his erection. He grinds against it and moans against Soren’s neck. Delighted at being able to draw such sounds from Ike, he rolls his hips up and grabs hold of Ike’s meaty thighs.

He pops the button of his jeans, Soren’s hands hooked on his belt loops and tugging at the cloth just enough for Ike’s cock to peek out from beneath the waistband of his boxers. Soren stares at it, draws webbed fingers along its clothed length, but Ike stops him. He’s ready to burst as it is and he doesn’t want things to end just yet.

Soren seems to understand. He allows Ike’s hands roam his body instead, lets them trail down, down, down...

Fingers trace over a slick mound that wasn’t there before.

Soren lets out a sharp yelp.

Something pink and fleshy protrudes slightly from between the swollen, black lips of a slit. It looks a little bit like a small headless penis, or a clit – Ike’s not quite sure what the difference is.

Ike licks his lips.

Whatever it is, or whatever it’s called, it makes Soren squirm and that’s a good sign.

Ike presses the skin around the slit and Soren moans, loud and raunchy.

“I-Ike,” He pants, “w-wait…”

He doesn’t.

He massages around the pink nub as Soren gasps, gripping Ike’s thighs and tensing like he’s trying so hard not to come.

“It’s fine,” Ike showers his face in tiny kisses, ruthlessly kneading around the slit, “Just… let it out.”

“A-Ahhh…!” Soren cries.

Suddenly that small pink nub isn’t quite so little.

It unfurls like a long, thin flower, fleshy and headless. It’s definitely a dick, unlike any Ike’s seen, but he’s immediately enamored with it. It twists and flicks like a tongue leaking a clear, viscous fluid from the tip.

He wants to taste it.

Pushing his fingers into the base – an effort to keep it still – Ike drags his tongue along the underside.

“I-Ike! Wh-ah-at are you do-o-ing?” Soren chokes out. Ike doesn’t answer, too busy letting Soren’s cock coil around his tongue and relishing the sweet and salty flavor. He closes his lips around it and sucks gently.

It sends Soren into a frenzy, bucking into Ike’s mouth and chanting his name like a prayer. Ike takes more in and sucks it lightly, unable to resist grinding his own leaking member against Soren’s writing tail.

“St-stop stop stop, Ike, nnn, som-something’s – ah – w-wait –!”

It twitches, pulses, and with a pained cry, Soren’s coming, spurting and gushing from his tip, cock still wound around Ike’s tongue.

Ike watches, enthralled, as it falls from his lips, spent and dripping. Soren’s grip on his thighs grows slack. His lips parted, his eyes glazed and unfocused and Ike drinks in the sight greedily. He sits back, still gently rocking on Soren’s tail and just… appreciates the man beneath him, wet and glossy under the moonlight.

Something else catches his eye – another slit just below Soren’s cock, also slightly swollen and slick. He fingers it only briefly, halted by Soren’s hand on his wrist.

“That’s,” He manages between mouthfuls of air, “not… I mean…”

Ike smiles and circles the slit again.

“What’s the matter?” He asks. Soren glowers at him, obviously embarrassed but still a bit weak from his orgasm.

“It’s not a v… I mean… that’s… an exit…” He mumbles, “It’s not for… um…” Ike kisses his cheek, then his forehead, nose, and jaw.

“You know… when two guys have sex they use the… _exit,_ ” He nibbles at the space beneath Soren’s ear.

“B-but that’s-!” Soren sputters.

“I won’t do it if you don’t want to,” Ike amends quickly.

Soren releases his wrist, and eye’s what little he can see of Ike’s erection beneath the cloth.

“I…”He murmurs, “I want to make you feel good.”

Ike nuzzles his neck.

“I already feel really good,” He kisses that pure-white throat.

They stay like that for a while, Ike’s hips rocking slowly, finger tracing Soren’s slit.

Finally, Soren moves.

He takes Ike by the wrist again, gently this time, and guides his fingers towards the slit itself.

Their eyes meet, and Ike’s finger slides inside.

It’s hot, wet, silky smooth and yielding. He can fell rings of muscles pulsating around his digit, and it sends shivers straight to his dick. It’s not as tight as he would have expected and a second finger shortly follows. He pumps them slowly, in and out, in and out, as gently as possible.

Soren’s breathing quickens again and Ike’s pace along with it. He curls and twists them, thrusts them inside and grits his teeth at the realization that Soren’s actually enjoying this.

He adds a third and picks up the pace as Soren’s cock stiffens. It leaks all over his abdomen and drips down to the finger-fucked slit.

“D-eeper,” Soren groans, “Just a little – ah…”

Ike complies, but it’s not enough. His fingers are as deep as they can get, and yet Soren still want more.

Luckily, Ike has just the thing.

Removing his fingers has Soren whimpering at the loss, but the disappointment is short lived. Ike’s thick dick springs free of his boxers, rocking the impressive length against Soren’s slit.

“Is it ok?” Ike steals another kiss and grinds down on him. Soren manages a weak but happy smile. His fingers trace Ike’s cheek.

“Yes,” He breaths.

Ike buries his face in the crook of Soren’s neck, lines himself up, and slips inside.

Slowly, slowly, slowly…

He feels the moan before he hears it, deep, needy, and reverberating down his spine. He eases in, inch by velvety inch.

It’s good, so, so good. Ike could come just like this, just barely sheathed inside. It’s pulsating and hot and so, so tight – much tighter than it felt around his fingers and he’s absolutely _dying_ to move, to thrust – god, he wants to fuck him…

“Does it hurt?” Ike asks through grit teeth.

He wants to _move_ … but he won’t. Not if Soren doesn’t want it.

“N-no. Keep going,” Soren does he best to relax himself, ready and waiting for anything Ike wants to give him.

Ike lets out the breath he didn’t realize he was holding, and pulls out – just to his tip – and eases back in. Soren’s cries of pleasure are delicious, so he does it again… and again… and again.

And then they’re fucking. Rough and needy. Messy kisses given and taken between short breaths, grunts and groans. They echo off the walls the cave and it only spurs Ike on.

It’s sweet, it’s tight, it’s slippery, their bodies wracked with a pleasured haze.

Soren moans and bucks beneath him, calling his name when he can manage it, and gasping for air when he can’t. His cock slips and slides against Ike’s stomach.

Ike comes in under a minute.

He quakes and shudders, lets his teeth sink into the flesh of Soren’s throat as he fills him.

Soren’s hole continues to suck him in, limp as he is, and Ike cries out as he’s milked hard. It’s Soren who thrusts this time, chasing a second orgasm between the cleft of Ike’s abs.

It’s intense. Even limp, Ike still feels like he’s coming. His balls spasm and his hips jerk, but Soren’s hole won’t release him.

Soren sucks at his throat and claws at his back, and just like that Ike’s growling against his mouth, holding him still against the stone while he recovers.

Half-hard is good enough, Ike thinks. He whispers Soren’s name, calls it out like a precious secret, and fucks him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...Ok, so not my best sex scene but sex in present tense? It's a lot harder than I thought it'd be (no pun intended). 
> 
> I took some artistic liberties with Soren's anatomy which were... also a little weird to write. I had fun tho. ;)


	3. Fall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew! Almost to the end!
> 
> I did some research on stranding and disentanglement of marine mammals for this fic. It's actually really interesting stuff. Look it up if you get a chance.

“Get up, we’re going to breakfast,” A gruff, feminine voice wakes him.

Ike grunts into his pillow and shimmies further under the covers.

“Ike, _now,_ ” She says.

“It’s _Sunday,”_ Ike groans and curses the fact she has a spare key, “C’mon, Titania, lemme sleep…”

Titania considers the option, but only for a moment, then unceremoniously rips the blankets off Ike’s bed. Ike yelps at the shock of cold air.

That quickly wakes him up. He glares at her and she hurls a shirt directly at his face.

“Get dressed. We leave in five minutes,” She says, heading for the door.

“What’s the rush?” Ike tugs the shirt over his head.

“There’s an event at the Marine Wildlife Center at ten that I’m in charge of... _and_ , seeing as you don’t want to respond to my text messages in a timely fashion, I thought it might be nice to spend some time face to face,” Her cheerful smile is awfully intimidating, “Now get dressed.”

“Yes, Mom…” Ike mumbles sarcastically as she shuts the door.

She hits him in the head with a stray pair of socks before it closes.

\-----

There’s nothing quite like the smell of diner coffee on a drizzly Sunday morning. Combined with the quiet buzz of private conversations and the occasional clinking of silverware, Ike feels relaxed.

Titania has barely spoken since they got their table; nothing beyond polite small talk and quick directions. He sips his coffee carefully while she douses hers with milk and tries to work out exactly what provoked this impromptu outing. As far as he knows, he hasn’t done anything recently that should instill worry in her, and he’s been good – well, better than he has been – at keeping her up to date on things over texts. It’s possible that there’s nothing wrong, that Titania just misses him – they used to spend a lot of time together when his father was alive, after all – but it seems unlikely.

Deciding that his speculation is pointless, Ike inhales the steam from his coffee and focuses his attention on ridding himself of his groggy state. He’s lacking in sleep what with all the late night’s he’s been pulling.

The onset of the fall season means a couple of things. First, that Ike would have to soon take his boat out of the water for regular maintenance. This means no more fishing for a couple months which means less time with Soren which will already be cut short since winter is far too cold for either of them to be able to spend any significant time on the beach together without freezing. At least when they’re on the boat Ike has ways of breaking the wind and keeping warm. The beach is far less protected, even at the cove, and it usually receives a thin coating of ice once winter really hits.

It doesn’t exactly lend itself well to secret rendezvous.

Which leads to the second thing: abstinence. Now, Ike never expected this to be an issue; sex has never been very high on his list of priorities but… sex with Soren is an incredible thing and the thought of being without it likely for months is excruciating.

He’s really going to miss it.

But it’s not just abstaining from sex; it’s abstaining from seeing Soren at all. Their imminent separation makes Ike nervous and he hasn’t found a good solution yet. Everything he can think of costs money he doesn’t have. That doesn’t stop him from staying up late exploring his options on his phone. So far, an indoor above-ground swimming pool and wheelchair combination seem like the best option.

…Although he can’t imagine Soren would enjoy that arrangement much, even if Ike could convince him to try it.

Titania sighs loudly from across the table, shaking Ike from his reverie. Ike sets his mug down just as she fetches a sheet of paper from her purse and slides it across the table.

It’s a flyer.

“…What’s this for?” Ike furrows his brow.

“It’s a sign up sheet,” She says.

“I can see that,” Ike frowns, “For what?” She takes a long sip of her coffee and taps the headline.

“The Marine Wildlife Center is looking for volunteers,” She says, “We get a lot of beached cetaceans this time of year, so we’re recruiting people to help. When the board announced it I immediately thought of you.”

“Uhh… Okay. Why?” Ike’s not quite sure what to think. Titania’s worked at the Center for years and never asked him for help.

What’s changed?

“You don’t want to help me?” Titania quirks her brow – a successful guilt trip, if there ever was one.

“You know that’s not it,” Ike says, “But I’ve got a lot of stuff on my plate already. I don’t know if I’ve got time –”

“Nice try, kiddo. You’ll have plenty of free time once your boat comes out of the water,” She notices Ike’s reluctance and it gives her pause, “I won’t force you, but we could really use your help. We’re usually up to our necks in stranded dolphins and sea turtles this time of year and there aren’t that many able bodied people available in this town to help us out,” She sighs, “It’s only for a couple hours a week, and I think spending time with other people would be good for you.”

Ah. There it was. The dig at Ike’s supposed hermitage.

“Titania…” Ike warns.

“You can even bring that new friend of yours. When do I get to meet him, anyway?” She ignores is tone completely and Titania smiles at him in that knowing way.

Ike is spared a pitiful response by the arrival of their breakfast. He thanks the waitress aloud for his food and again in his head for the distraction. He doesn’t have to fake being extremely interested in his meal, but he certainly does his best to exaggerate it.

“So this friend of yours,” She begins once Ike’s two pancakes deep into his breakfast, “Does he like dolphins?”

Ike chews thoughtfully. He wants to avoid a repeat of that scene with Raunlf and Boyd at the bar, so he’ll have to navigate this conversation carefully.

Of all the people he knows, Titania’s the one he wants to piss off the least.

“I think he’s more of an orca person…” Ike says after some time.

“Orcas, hm? That’s a shame. We don’t have any at the lab right now… What about sea turtles? Or seals? Does he like those?” Her eyes are bright with enthusiasm.

“You know, I’ve never asked him. Where are you going with this, anyway?” Ike says, slathering his remaining pancakes with butter and syrup. She hums into her mug.

“Nowhere really,” She says, “I just thought that an afternoon together at the rehab pools might make for a nice date,” She holds out her mug as the waitress passes by and smirks as Ike chokes on mouthful of bacon.

“ _Titania…_ ” He hisses, “I-it’s not –” She laughs at him, good natured and playful.

“Don’t think I can’t tell what you’ve been up to, Ike. I’ve known you and Mist since you were in diapers,” She takes another sip of her coffee, “Oh and uh,” She taps her neck, “You’ve got a little something…”

Ike slaps the mirrored spot on his neck, eyes wide and horrified.

He’d forgotten all about his little… _lesson_ with Soren yesterday about how human skin changes color.

Soren had been a very enthusiastic student.

“I won’t lecture you,” She says sternly, “But I do want to meet him. I thought a casual setting might be nice.”

“So your workplace counts as a casual setting?” Ike snorts.

“It’s no different from an aquarium, except that I’ll let you touch the animals,” She says proudly, “If you volunteer for the Stranded and Disentanglement Initiative, you may even be able to show him a dolphin you saved yourself.”

“Somehow I don’t think that’ll impress him much,” Ike chuckles. Titania seems content with his noncommittal answers for the time being and tucks into her eggs.

Ike pauses, fork hovering halfway between his mouth and plate.

Ike has spent a lot of time over the last few weeks mulling over the future and the one thing he knows for sure is that he can’t keep Soren’s true nature a secret from everyone – not for long anyway. He’s a terrible liar so there’s no way he can hide the truth from the ones closest to him. The longer he puts off telling them about Soren, the more often they’ll press him for more information or try to goad Ike into letting them meet.

And he wants that. He wants to show Soren off and openly brag about him. He wants the people he loves to see how much he cares about him and he wants them to understand that he’s happy.

He can’t do that if Soren stays a complete secret.

Besides Mist, Titania is the closest thing Ike has to family. She practically raised him. He trusts her wholeheartedly, and who better tell about his secret mermaid lover than a marine veterinarian?

But not yet.

He’s not ready, and he can’t do something like that without Soren’s consent.

He sets the fork down and looks up at her very seriously. She takes notice, and tilts her head to the side quizzically.

“Um,” He stumbles, “Titania I – I really want you to meet him but… you just… _can’t_ … yet.”

Titania chews her food pensively, then gestures at him with her fork.

“ _Yet_ means I will _eventually_ , right?” She asks. Ike looks her dead in the eyes and nods, “Alright then. That’s fine.”

“…Really?” He’s surprised. Somehow he thought she’d make more of a fuss.

“Yes, really,” She laughs, “What, did you think I’d demand to meet him? I trust you, Ike. And I trust that whoever can get you this worked up is a good kid too.”

It’s too easy. Why is this so easy? For Titania to just… concede so quickly is almost unfathomable. She’s usually so persistent.

“What’s the matter?” She asks like his silence is something out of the ordinary.

“Nothing, I just… didn’t expect you to be so ok with that,” He says.

“And I never expected you to be so smitten with anyone, and yet here we are,” She chides, “But if I can’t meet him yet, maybe you can tell me about him instead?”

Ike grins.

That’s definitely something he can do.

\-----

“Stop sulking, it’s only for a couple hours a week,” Ike says, plucking an eyewitness book from Soren’s hands. The siren scowls and snatches it back.

“I’m not sulking,” He grumbles.

“You are,” Ike leans his weight against Soren’s shoulder then topples over when Soren doesn’t push back. He glowers playfully at the smirking man above him, then sighs, “Are you mad?” he asks.

“No…” Soren averts his gaze.

“Buuuut…? I hear a but,” Ike leans in close, bumping his nose against Soren’s cheek. Soren chuckles and pushes lightly at Ike’s chest so he can sit up.

“But,” Soren begins, “…I’m going to miss you.”

Ike plants a small kiss on his forehead, and murmurs, “Don’t say that like you’re not going to see me again. It’s only for a couple hours three days a week. The rest of the time, I’m all yours.”

“Not for long though…” He says quietly. He curls his fingers into the ends of Ike’s coat.

It’s endearing.

“I know,” Ike says. He weaves his fingers through Soren’s hair and tugs him forward to rest against his shoulder, “I wish I could take you home with me,” He can feel Soren smiling against his neck.

“That’s the third time you’ve said that to me,” Soren says absently.

Ike furrows his brow.

“Third time?” He asks, "I only count two."

It’s a delayed response, but Soren jolts backwards and clasps a hand over his mouth. He quite obviously hadn’t meant to say that, and it makes Ike even more curious.

“Soren?” Ike tugs Soren’s hand away from his face and stares at his flustered expression, “What do you mean it’s the third time?”

“I-Ike, I –” Soren stammers. Ike feels Soren’s pulse quickening beneath his fingertips.

He’s nervous.

“You don’t want to tell me?” He asks as gently as he can, leaving Soren the option to refuse if he wants to, but Soren simply looks resigned instead.

“It’s… not that I don’t… _want_ to, but…” He chews his lower lip and looks up at Ike with beautiful black-rimmed eyes, “are you sure you want to hear it?”

“If it’s about you, then yes,” Ike says leaning back into the sand.

“A-alright then…” Soren draws his sleek black tail in towards his chest and sets the book down on a nearby towel, “It’s not a very happy story… but…”

He glances up at Ike, then passed him to the sea, gaze wistful and uncertain.

“I… um…” He begins, “I don’t have parents, or a family. My earliest memory is of eating the scraps cast aside by the pod that I was allowed to follow.”

Ike’s heart sinks. He was expecting a bit of a sad tale, but they were already off to a terrible start and by the look on Soren’s face it was going to get worse.

“I wasn’t allowed to swim with them because I couldn’t swim fast enough. They said –” Soren makes a series of clicks from the back of his throat, but catches himself and searches for words instead, “um, they said I swim strange, that my tail is –” He clicks again and frowns like he can’t think of the word he wants to use, “deformed?”

“Your tail looks fine to me,” Ike says, tilting his head to the side. Soren smiles softly at him.

“You don’t have anything to compare it to,” Soren says, “It’s true that I’m not anywhere near as fast as other sirens. Hunting for fish was… impossible for me. I just wasn’t fast enough to catch them,” He flicks his fin slightly, “At the time I was grateful just to have something to eat. Other pods ignored me completely, so I thought I was pretty lucky.”

Ike scoots closer to Soren and runs his hands along the length of his tail.

“One day when the pod was hunting, I got badly tangled in a net that had been caught on some coral. I… I called for help but…” Soren’s eyes squeezed shut, “They left me there. I was still small and I wasn’t strong enough to pull myself free.  Eventually I managed to untangle the net from the coral, but not from me,” He laughs bitterly, “It weighed me down so much I could barely swim, let alone catch up with the pod.”

“Soren, that’s… horrible,” Ike says.

“I swam for days unable to catch anything and still no sign of the pod. And then… I was just so tired that I fell asleep,” He releases a quivering breath, “Next thing I knew I was washed up on a beach somewhere,” Soren looks up at Ike and gives him a bashful smile, “With a little human boy staring at me.” 

“….Me?” Ike points to himself and Soren nods.

“You,” He confirms, “I was terrified when you pulled out your pocketknife but I was too tired to try and escape.”

“…I remember that…” Ike whispers his realization, “I thought you were a seal!”

Soren laughs.

“A seal? What part of me looks like a seal?” He asks.

“I don’t know,” It’s a bewildered mumble, “Your size? Maybe? I thought you were covered in seaweed since I couldn’t see your face very well… Must have been your hair…”

“Do you remember what happened next?” Soren sounds uncharacteristically timid. Ike closes his eyes and thinks.

“I… gave you my lunch… I think?” He says.

“You gave me a sandwhich,” Soren’s smile is wide and shy, “And then you said, ‘I wish I could take you home with me,’ although… I didn’t understand those words at the time.”

“…Then… Dad called me and I had to go,” Ike stares at Soren with something akin to wonder, “Oh man, I even asked him if I could have a pet seal… I can’t believe that was you.”

Soren lets his head drop against Ike’s chest.

“You saved me, Ike,” He whispers, “I was dying. I had nothing and you… you…” Ike strokes his back but doesn’t say anything until Soren pulls away enough to look at him, “I followed you – your boat – for as long as I could but I wasn’t fast enough to keep up for long. But I managed it long enough to learn that humans use boats to catch fish. I couldn’t catch any on my own, but I could take fish from nets and lines.”

Ike rubs his thumb against Soren’s cheek, encouragement to continue.

“You weren’t the first human I saved,” He says, “I spent years following boats, trying to catch a glimpse of those on board in the hopes that one of them might be you. And when I finally found you… you’d grown up.” Soren trails off and doesn’t continue.

Something doesn’t feel quite right.

 “Hey,” Ike urges, “What’s wrong?”

Soren remains silent.

“Soren…?” Ike says.

“I’m sorry,” Soren whispers after a few minutes. The apology confuses Ike even more.

“For what?” Ike asks, “You don’t have anything to apologize for.”

“I do,” Soren says, eyes fixed on the sand, “I do, I… Ike, I’m so sorry.”

“Hey,” Ike cups Soren’s face with his hands, “Hey, look at me,” Soren does, eyes glistening and frightened, “It’s ok,” he assures.

Soren’s eyes fall closed as he leans into the touch.

“There was always a man with you,” He says warily, “A stern face who… looked like you.”

Ike swallows hard. He knows exactly who Soren’s describing.

“Ike, I’m sorry. I tried to help him, I did! I just… I wasn’t fast enough,” His voice is barely audible above the waves and the gulls, but Ike still hears every word.

Ike pulls him close, an excuse to comfort Soren as well as a means to calm himself. He wasn’t expecting to dive back into those feelings.

“It’s not your fault,” He says after a time, “It was an accident. Dad got caught in a rip tide. There was nothing you – or any of us – could do.”

“If I had been just a little bit faster I could have –” Soren protests.

“If you were faster, you would still be with your pod,” Ike says. Soren looks as though he wants to object but he doesn’t. Ike manages a small smile, “And you wouldn’t be here right now. With me. You saved me too, you know. And many others by the sounds of things.”

“But –”

“Soren,” Ike interjects before Soren can say anything else, “It’s ok. Really.”

It’s obviously not as ok as Ike makes it sound. Even months later Ike catches himself replaying the events of that day in his mind, analyzing every second, wondering if there was something – anything – he could have done to change his father’s fate. He knows there wasn’t. His father’s death was an accident, the kind that you can take every precaution against, do everything right, follow every safety regulation perfectly and still not avoid.

But it still haunts him. Less so with Soren and time to distract him, but still.

“…Do you miss him?” Soren asks after several long minutes of pensive silence.

Ike smiles softly and brushes hair from Soren’s face.

“Every goddamn day,” He places a kiss on the top of Soren’s head and smiles when the siren nuzzles his neck.

“Then… will you miss me?” Soren asks.

Ike smirks into his hair.

“Nope,” He says. Soren looks hurt but only for the moment prior to noticing Ike’s playful expression, “Because I’m still going to see you every day.”

“…Jerk,” Soren mumbles fondly, “You better bring books.”

“Oh, I see how it is,” Ike shoves him into the sand and pins him there, “You only like me for my books,”

Soren wraps his arms around the back of Ike’s neck and pulls him closer.

“Mostly,” He grins suggestively, rubbing his tail against Ike’s thigh, “There’s something else I like you for though…”

“My sandwiches?” Ike teases, nuzzling Soren’s exposed throat when he throws his head back in delighted laughter.

“Yes, Ike. Your sandwiches,” He flips their positions and Ike takes it as a challenge. Soon they’re rolling along the beach, wrestling and necking and laughing…

Ike goes home at the end of the day grinning despite the sand wedged in places he’d rather not mention.

\-----

Fall is far busier than Ike anticipated.

Intense storms are historically common this time of year but Ike usually spent most of this season indoors working on the boat with his father and generally enjoying a pseudo-vacation.

But this year is definitely different. Between working on his boat and placating Titania with volunteer work for the Marine Wildlife Center, Ike has precious little time left for Soren. He squeezes in visits whenever he can but it’s definitely not enough.

Ike misses him.

Soren misses him too but puts on a brave face whenever Ike shows up at his cave with a few new paperbacks and a thermos full of hot cocoa – Soren’s new favorite treat. Sometimes Ike spots him swimming in the bay, watching him from a safe distance while Ike helps Titania and the other volunteers assess beached dolphins and move the uninjured ones safely back into the water.

The storms get worse as the weeks drag on. Mid-November bears the worst of it. Mud slides, downed power lines, and some minor flooding make it near impossible for Ike to do much beyond stare out his living room window and hope Soren stays put.

Of course, the increase in storm activity leads to the increase of stranded cetaceans and soon three-hours-a-week volunteer work turns into Ike’s part time job. Most days he has to make the choice between working on his boat – which is critical to his livelihood and he doesn’t have much time left before he has to launch it again – or spending some time with Soren. He tried turning Titania down once instead, but she appeared at the boat yard immediately after he hung up on her and dragged him down to the beach.

He knows from years of experience that he can’t win against her so he resigned himself to another Soren-free day.

He’s at the boatyard one afternoon when he gets yet another call from Titania – a summons to the beach, and his presence is required.

Ike groans. He’s covered in grease and his outboard motor is in pieces. He wants to finish cleaning it today but it looks like that’s not going to happen.

It’s a torrential downpour outside, a leftover from the previous day’s awful windstorm. The streets of town are completely empty and Ike dreads going out in it.

But he does. He gets in his truck skids down the flooded roadways to the beach, not even bothering to put on his rain slick; he’ll just get soaked anyway.

Titania waves him over from a large group of volunteers in wetsuits scurrying around what appears to be an entire pod of dolphins. Ike’s seen one or two cetacean’s stranded but never in quantities like this.

It’s concerning.

“Glad you could make it,” She shouts at him over the rush of rain.

“What happened?” He shouts back. She shakes her head and gestures to the stranded pod.

“Some drunken assholes didn’t tie up their trawler properly. Damn thing slipped its mooring. They didn’t tie down their netting right either and of course _that_ went overboard and this pod got caught. Washed ashore a couple hours ago. The trawler ran aground down the beach this morning, thankfully no one was on it,” She lets out a long breath and rubs her eyes, “We’ve got ‘em all cut free, but we need a lot of muscle to get these dolphins back in the water. High tide’s in a couple of hours, so we don’t have much time to get things set up.”

Ike looks over the beach. There’s at least a dozen dolphins there, each one needing about a half hour and a small team of volunteers to get them moved.

Maybe if he’s lucky he can see Soren for a few minutes before sundown.

He sighs.

“Better get started then,” He says with a weary smile.

\-----

Ike is drenched, freezing, and _starving_ by the time the last uninjured dolphin disappears into the bay along with the sun. He wants pizza, a hot bath and… well, maybe Soren in the bath with him, if he can smuggle him home for the night. He’s not sure both of them will fit in the tub but, damnit, he’ll find a way… if he can convince him.

Titania slaps him on the back with an accomplished smile.

“You did good, Ike,” She shouts. The rain still hasn’t let up, but at least the wind has died down a bit.

“Thanks,” Ike stretches his limbs and feels his back pop. His skin is so numb it can barely feel the rain beating against him.

“We’ll take care of the cleanup, but can you do me a quick favor before you leave?” She asks. Ike rolls his head and lets it hang for a second before looking her in the eye and giving a begrudging nod, “The trawler that ran aground is down the beach, just a bit passed the parking lot. Can you go and make sure there’s nothing onboard that’ll cause problems? Gas cans, netting, things like that.”

“Yeah, sure,” He mumbles.

“Thanks. Come to dinner with Rhys and me tomorrow? My treat,” She offers, walking backwards towards the rest of the volunteers.

“I’m holding you to that!” Ike shouts back.

He definitely deserves a huge meal after all this.

Ike trudges towards the rocky side of the beach. The sunset is dimed by storm clouds and sheets of rain hinder his visibility and slow him down. He can barely make out the towering shadow of the boat Titania mentioned.

From what Ike can see, the trawler ran bow first into a cluster of tall rocks just offshore. The keel of the boat is wedged between the rocks, bow jutting forward, elevated slightly with the stern partially submerged.  Severe damage to the hull meant that it was likely taking on a lot of water. Had it not been pinned in place it would have sunk.

Unfortunately, high tide meant that Ike would have to wade through a few feet of water to get to the boat, and he’s fairly certain the rocks will be too slippery to climb. He weighs his options, noting the damage to the rest of the trawler, and decides to head back and tell Titania to let the coastguard handle it.

In the meantime, he can stop by Soren’s cave and see if he can convince the siren to spend the next couple days in a bathtub. Or bed. Or both.

Ike turns to leave, but something catches his eye. It’s small, bright white and a stark contrast to the dark rocks it lays against. Ike squints and wades into the water a little trying to make out what it is.

It looks like a… glove? No, a hand maybe.

Ike moves closer and feels the bottom drop out of his stomach.

A hand?

“No… No, it can’t be…” Ike murmurs anxiously.

He sloshes through the water as fast as he can, his pulse harder – louder – than the sound of the rain beating against the ocean.

“Please no, please no, please no…” He chants desperately as a wave crashes against his thighs. He wants to be wrong – _has to be wrong_.

It’s just a fisherman’s glove. It has to be.

His heart sinks lower and lower the closer he gets. He can make out the webbing between the fingers and starts to shake.

“Soren?” Ike shouts over the rush of the waves. He climbs onto the lower rocks. He slips twice, but manages to hoist himself up.

What he sees chills him.

“No… Soren…” He croaks.

Soren is pinned beneath the trawler, shoulders twisted and wedged between jagged rocks. His free arm – the one Ike saw – hangs limp. Ike can’t see the rest of him, but he reaches down and cups Soren’s jaw, desperately searching for signs of life – but his eyes are closed.

And there’s blood.

 _So much blood_.

“Soren…? Soren, wake up,” Ike all but screams at him.

Seconds feel like hours and Ike’s shoulders heave with panic. His eyes burn and his throat is so tight he can’t even _breathe_ while he racks his mind trying to figure out what he’s supposed to do _._

And then…

Soren’s eyes flutter open.

“Soren! Soren, oh thank god,” Ike crumbles in momentary relief because he’s ok, _Soren’s ok_.

“Ike…?” Soren’s voice is faint and hoarse but it’s there, it’s _there_ and he’s alive. Soren smiles at him, weak and winded, “You’re ok…”

“You’re the one who’s not ok,” Ike chokes on a sob, and swallows the rest. Soren tries to move but he barely manages to lift his arm before he’s wincing, hissing in pain. Ike hushes him, rubs the hurt from his cheeks, “Hey, hey, we’re… we’re gonna get you out of here ok? Just hang tight.”

“Ike, I’m…” He sucks in a breath, “…stuck,” Soren says weakly with another bleary smile.

“I know,” Ike swallows, “I know, and we’re gonna get you unstuck, ok? I just…” He looks at the hull of the boat looming over them, and takes a few deep breaths. When he looks back at Soren his face is contorted in pain.

“No, Ike, listen,” Soren sucks in another quick breath, “I can’t… feel anything.” He looks up at Ike, eyes glistening and pleading, “Do you understand…?”

“I don’t,” Ike grits his teeth, “I won’t leave you here.” But the blood trickles down Soren’s face and panic swirls in Ike’s stomach.

Soren needs help. Needs medical attention, he needs –

“Titania,” Ike whispers as the realization sets in. He fumbles for his phone and nearly drops it twice as he dials.

Soren needs Titania.

She’s a marine vet, she’s family, and she’s close by.

The wind kicks up as the phone rings.

She answers.

“Ike? Hey, did you –”

“Titania,” Ike yells into the receiver, “Titania, I need help!”

“What? Ike, where are you? Are you ok?” He can hear her moving, wind crackling over the microphone.

“I’m fine, but,” He swallows. What does he even say to her? “I-I-I’m by the trawler!” The phone slips from his hands and into the ocean. Ike curses under his breath but immediately turns his attention back towards Soren…

…But his eyes are closed again.

Ike does his best to remain calm.

“Ike!?” Titania shouts.

Ike startles. She was closer than he thought.

“Titania!” She spots him on the rocks and rushes towards him. Ike holds out a hand and pulls her up.

“Ike, what’s going on? Why are you…” Her voice trails off as she notices the hand Ike’s holding. She pushes him aside and peers down into the rocks, whipping her red head up to stare Ike down, “Is that…? Soren? Your Soren?” Ike nods.

Titania swears and pushes the hair out of her eyes, glancing around survey their options.

There aren’t many.

She grabs Ike by the shoulders and looks him in the eye.

“Listen Ike, we have to move this boat. We’ll move it as much as possible and then we’ll pull him out together, ok?” Ike has no words so he nods and braces himself on the side of the boat opposite Titania. “On the count of three ok? One! Two!” Both of them take deep breaths, muscles tense, “Three!”

They both grunt and groan with effort. The hull of the boat is slick with rain and heavy as hell, but Ike and Titania are strong. Their muscles strain and their feet slip, but the trawler yields just a little.

They ease off, panting.

“Ike!” Titania barks, “One more push, and then I’m going to try to hold this thing in place while you grab him, got it?”

“Got it!” He shouts back.

“Ready? One! Two! Threeee!” They throw themselves against the hull again and this time it moves considerably. Titania shifts towards the middle and once sure she’s stable, Ike ducks down to tend to Soren.

It’s so much worse than he thought.

Soren’s tail is a mangled mess wedged between two rocks and impaled on a third. It’s bloody and torn, his dorsal fin mashed and mangled.

Ike swallows hard, apologizes quietly, and tugs him free. Soren lets out an agonizing scream that dissolves into blubbering sobs against Ike’s shoulder.

His tail hangs limp and bleeding in Ike’s arms.

“You got him?” Titania grunts. Ike shouts back an affirmative, but he’s scared – _so scared_ – of what comes next. Titania slips out from beneath the trawler and tries to catch her breath.

Ike holds him tight, rubbing soothing circles onto Soren’s shredded back as he cries.

“Alright,” Titania huffs after a moment, “Now let me take a look… at… him…?” Ike watches as her face goes from concerned to astonished the moment her eyes fall on Soren’s bloodied tail.

She looks Ike in the eyes, her face frozen in a state of shock.

“Ike… what…” She can’t manage to vocalize her question. She can scarcely believe what she’s seeing.

 “Titania, please,” Ike whispers, “Please, just…”

He needs her help, Soren needs her help. Ike can’t take him to a hospital, and he’s not confident enough to treat Soren himself.

He needs her to be on board.

 “Can you help him?” He implores. He’s not above begging, if it means she’ll help Soren.

Several moments pass in the silence of heavy rain. Ike cradles Soren against him and suffers Titania’s weighted stare.

Titania opens and closes her mouth several times then shakes the confusion from her mind. She pulls a small plastic pack from her hip pouch and tears it open. She climbs down the rocks and looks up at them expectantly.

“Hand him to me,” She says, unfurling the emergency foil blanket and holding her arms out. Ike hesitates, but slowly pries Soren away from his chest and eases him over the edge of the rocks, wincing at his painful screams.

Once knee-deep in the water, she puts Soren back in his arms, top half swaddled in the blanket, “Now _move,_ ” She hisses.

“Titania, what –?” Ike stammers. Titania ignores him, swearing as she whips out her phone and dials.

“Rhys!” She bellows after a few seconds, “Meet me at the center. Ten minutes,” and promptly hangs up and fixes Ike with a searing glare “I expect a full explanation from you later, but for now let’s just get him into my van. Now _move!_ ” She snarls.

Ike can feel the blood dribbling down his arms like rain as they run.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chap is gonna be really long. I might add a 5th for an epilogue if it gets too long, but we'll see.
> 
> On another note, I did say there wouldn't be any magic, but I guess... Titania might loosely fit the role of the sea witch if this was a retelling of the little mermaid.
> 
> ...That's all I'm saying.
> 
> :D


	4. Winter - Part One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off I would like to apologize for... adding a whole 'nother chapter. I swear I was only gonna do 4 max, but uh... When I started writing the last chapter I realized it was going to be like 12000 words. So I either had to just accept the fact that my chapters are long as hell and post a really really long final chapter, OR split it into two parts (or cut some scenes but I dowanna). 
> 
> I'm doing the latter. So final chapter is in two parts.
> 
> Home stretch tho.

Soren looks like a ghost propped up on pillows as white as he is.

Pale and weak under halogen lights; breathing silent and so shallow his chest barely moves. If not for the constant beeping of the heart rate monitor he could easily pass for dead. He’s not, of course – the danger of death passed nearly a day ago. Still, Ike can’t be at ease without the steady thrum of Soren’s pulse beneath his fingertips.

He doesn’t remember the last forty-eight hours all that well. Everything whizzed by in a frantic blur. He barely remembers the hours spent anxiously waiting outside the operating room, his blood-soaked clothes and Soren’s pained whimpers.

There was no telling how long Soren had been trapped under that boat. They found him too late, perhaps by minutes, perhaps by hours. Ike barely understood the explanation Titania gave him; he only caught the highlights. Cracked ribs, internal bleeding, minor concussion and –

Ike spares a glance down the length of Soren’s body and swallows the lump in his throat.

– toxic shock. That’s what she called it. Something that occurs when blood flow to a limb is severed and the flesh starts to die. The boat was too heavy and Soren had been trapped beneath it for too long.

_“We did everything we could, Ike,”_ Titania’s words ring in his ears, _“I’m sorry.”_

God – if only he had gotten there sooner... if only he had skipped out on helping with the beached pod for a while to check in with Soren… then maybe, just _maybe…_

There’s a soft exhale and Ike’s gaze snaps back to Soren’s face. The siren blinks, slowly at first like he’s not quite sure what he’s seeing. Ike waits for them to focus, for the haze of sleep and drugs to clear before giving Soren’s hand a soft squeeze.

Soren turns his head slowly to face him and Ike tries to give him a smile.

“…Ike…” Soren’s voice out as a faint, broken whine. He looks apprehensive and scared. It’s hard to say whether it’s at the unfamiliar room or the worrying expression on Ike’s face.

There’s little Ike can do about either.

“Hey,” His voice shakes but he reaches out to gently stroke Soren’s cheek, “You’re awake.” Soren parts his lips to speak but nothing comes out. He’s still disoriented, Ike can tell that much, and the clenching of his jaw suggests he might be regaining some feeling in his limbs. Ike almost doesn’t dare to ask, “How’re you feeling?”

Soren considers his answer for longer than usual still a bit hazy. He tries to shift his weight so he can face Ike better and winces.

“…h…urts…” His voice cuts in and out like a broken radio.

“That’s probably the anesthesia wearing off,” Ike says, then quickly amends, “It uh, dulls the pain.”

“…ah…” Soren says faintly. He takes a long moment, eyes flicking over unfamiliar objects around the room, “…w…her…e…?”

“We’re at the Marine Wildlife Center,” Soren’s eyes narrow in confusion, “You’ll… be staying here for a while… ok?” The confusion on Soren’s face turns to fear and Ike backpedals, “Please don’t look at me like that. You’re safe here. I promise.”

Soren’s eyes fill with questions that Ike doesn’t have the courage to answer so he prays they remain unasked… at least long enough for Ike to figure out what to say.

But Soren is not patient.

“W…hy…?” He coughs then hisses in pain.

Ike says nothing. Whatever explanation he tries for dies in his throat and burns until there’s nothing left for him to say. He settles for squeezing Soren’s uninjured hand as a means of reassurance, but it does little to appease him.

Worry creeps onto Soren’s face, his red eyes wide and fearful, boring into Ike.

That’s all it takes for his composure to crack.

“Shit…” Ike rubs at his burning eyes and tries his best to hold back his tears.

Soren doesn’t need this. Not now. Not from him.

“Do…n’t cr…y, Ike…” Soren’s concerned whisper wraps around Ike’s heart, but it only makes him feel worse, “I’m o-okay…”

Ike chokes, and the first tear falls onto the bed sheets.

“No… you’re not,” Ike says in a hoarse whisper, “Soren, you’re not ok…”

“I am…” Soren asserts, “I’m ri…ght her…e… are…n’t I…?”

Ike crumbles, shoulders shaking with pent-up emotion, hot tears rolling down his cheeks unabated. Soren is wrong.

Wrong, wrong, _wrong._

He’s not ok – he’ll _never_ be ok. A piece of him is lost forever and there’s not a _goddamn thing_ either of them can do about it.

“No,” Ike sniffs and rubs his cheeks dry, “Not all of you.”

Soren’s brow furrows as much as the remaining anesthesia allows.

Ike tries to steady his breathing.

“Wh…at…?” Soren asks, concerned and confused.

A fresh wave of grief hits Ike like a cold ocean wave. He can’t speak. It’s all he can do to keep his tears at bay.

His fingers tremble, but he releases Soren’s hand and reaches for the end of the bed sheet that cover’s Soren’s tail and slowly, slowly, pulls it back.

…Only, there’s no tail left to cover.

Soren’s lips part in shock. His eyes dart between Ike and the bandaged stump where his tail used to be as realization sinks in.

Minutes pass and Ike chokes on the silence. Soren stares at the empty space where his flipper should be and says nothing.

Unable to bear the silence, Ike reaches for him and swallows.

“Soren, I’m so sorry,” Ike croaks.

Soren stares back at him with wide, glassy eyes.

“Ike…” Soren’s body quivers. His words are slow and deliberate, “Wher…e’s my ta…il?”

Ike slowly shakes his head – he’s at a loss for words.

“I’m sorry,” Ike whispers, “They couldn’t save it –”

“Ike, where’s m…y tail?!” Soren’s chest heaves with panic and the beeping of the heart rate monitor quickens, “Why did they ta…ke my ta…il!?”

“You were dying,” Ike cups Soren’s cheeks in his hands and wills the terror to leave his face, “We didn’t have a choice.”

Soren searches his face for any trace of a lie – some hint that this is a cruel joke or a nightmare that he’ll wake from… but Ike can’t lie; Soren knows that.

His tail is gone.

“My tail…” A single oily tear rolls down Soren’s cheek as his voice cracks, “My… _ta…il…_ ”

“I know,” He whispers, “I know…”

“Ike, m…y _tail…”_ Soren dissolves into heaving, heart-wrenching sobs, fingers twisting in the hem of Ike’s shirt.

“I know,” Ike pulls him close and Soren shrieks with pain. His whole body convulses but he refuses to let go. He clings to Ike like a lifeline, crying and trembling and screaming against him until his voice gives out.

Ike quietly cries alongside him.

\-----

It’s about an hour later when the tears finally subside and Soren succumbs to exhaustion. Ike lays him back down against the pillows and brushes hair away from his tear stained cheeks.

It’s baffling how one mistake from a couple of drunken fisherman had forever changed Soren’s fate – condemned him to a life on land, unable to swim even in shallow waters. A third of his body is gone forever and there’s not a damned thing Ike or Titania or anyone can do but accept it and try to move on.

But for now, Soren can grieve over his loss. There will be plenty of time to think about what comes next once his body has healed and his emotions settle.

The door opens and Titania steps through, two steaming mugs in her hands.

“Coffee?” She takes a seat beside him and offers one of the mugs to him. Ike knows he must look terrible with his swollen eyes and reddened face, but he manages a weak smile anyway.

“Thanks,” he says. He takes a tentative sip as the heat seeps into his freezing hands.

“I heard shouting from down the hall,” Titania says after taking a long drink, “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah. Well, I guess so. He woke up for a little while. Cried himself back to sleep,” Ike watches the steam wafting off his mug in thin scented spirals.

“I suppose we should have expected that. I probably would have had a similar reaction if it were me,” Titania hums thoughtfully into her mug and leans back in her chair, “He really is incredible though, isn’t he?”

“Hm?”

“It’s just… You’re an honest kid, Ike, but if you’d told me what he was beforehand… I never would have believed you. Hell, I barely believe it right now and he’s right in front of me,” Titania says. Ike chuckles.

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” He watches Soren’s chest rise and fall in his sleep. There had been times – although brief – when Ike wondered whether Soren was real or just a figment of his imagination or some exacerbated hallucination brought on by his depression. Despite the circumstances he’s happy that his secret’s out, even if it’s only to Titania and Rhys.

“Ike,” Titania’s tone grows serious, “I can’t keep him here. Not for more than a couple of weeks,” She frowns, “A dozen biologists and marine veterinarians like me come here every week and that’s not including our normal visitors. If anyone catches wind of him… well, that’d be the end of it.”

“I know,” Ike says, “As soon as he’s healed enough to move I’ll take him home.”

“Home?” Titania furrows her brow, “Home… where?”

“To my house,” Ike says. He hasn’t thought too deeply about what happens next, but the words feel natural to him. After all, he’s been thinking about how to build a future with Soren. Perhaps the circumstances are unfortunate, but at least he can act on some of his ideas now.

“Are you crazy?!” Titania hisses in an attempt to keep her voice down, “What if someone sees him!?”

“What choice do we have?!” Ike spits back, “We can’t bring him back to the ocean with his tail like that! He’ll die!” Titania’s face twists with incredulity. She knows Ike’s right but doesn’t want to admit it, “I – I can get him a small indoor pool… a-and a wheelchair. He’ll be able to get around on his own, even if it’s just around the house.”

“Ike, you can’t just –” Titania tries to protest but Ike talks over her.

“He’s alone out there, Titania. I’m all he has,” Ike stares into his coffee, “If he lives with me then maybe… maybe he’ll have more than just me. He’ll have you, and Rhys and Mist… maybe even Ranulf and Boyd. They’ll understand if I explain things to them,” He grips the mug tighter, “I know it’s not much of a life… but it’s better than the alternative.”

He glances up at Titania who’s chewing the inside of her lip angrily.

“So that’s it then?” She says, “You’re just going to… take care of him for the rest of your _life?_ Ike, you can barely afford to take care of yourself. And what about your future? Do you really think you’ll be able to get married or bring people over if you’re always taking care of him?”

Ike looks up at her, eyes like cold steel.

“Titania,” He says with the gentle sort of conviction one can’t argue with, “You know how I feel about him,”

Titania’s lips part as she weakly grasps for words with which to form an argument but remains silent. She traces the rim of her coffee mug with a finger and lets her thoughts fester.

“You know I normally wouldn’t judge your choice in partner,” She says after a while, “But Ike, he’s not even _human_ –”

“And I’m not a siren,” Ike quips, “That doesn’t change anything.”

Titania studies his face carefully for what feels like hours before looking away.

“You really love him, don’t you?” Titania’s voice is filled with a resigned sort of awe that makes Ike smile, “Seven billion humans on this planet and you fall for a siren.” She sounds somewhat amused and Ike takes that as a good sign.

“He is pretty special,” Ike smiles fondly into his coffee.

“I know, I believe you. I’m just worried” Titania says with a wry smile and a sigh, “Don’t look at me like that. You know I only want the best for you, and this future you’re planning? It definitely won’t be easy,” She puts a hand on his shoulder, “You stand to lose a lot from this relationship. Soren too.”

“Maybe,” Ike smiles softly at Soren’s sleeping form, “But we stand to gain a lot too.”

“And how does Soren feel about all this?” Titania asks.

“I don’t know,” Ike says pensively, “I… know how he feels about me, but the rest…” He meets Titania’s hard stare, “I won’t force him into anything. That’s all I can say for now.”

There’s a tense silence that follows

Finally Titania thumps Ike on the back a few times and breaks the silence with a soft chuckle.

“Alright, alright, you win.” She grumbles playfully, “I still think this is a terrible idea but I also know I can’t change your mind – wipe that stupid grin off your face,” She teases.

“You’re ok with this then?” Ike asks hopefully.

“I’m ok with this,” She confirms, “If Soren’s willing then I’ll do whatever I can to make this work for you two.”

Ike grins. His heart feels lighter than it has in days knowing that he and Soren don’t have to work through this alone. He can only hope the rest of his friends and family will be even half as supportive.

“Thanks, Titania. That means a lot,” He says.

There’s another pause – a comfortable one this time, and Titania’s the one to break it once again.

“Your father would be happy for you, you know,” She smiles with one eyebrow raised, “Very confused, but happy.”

Ike laughs until his tears start falling again.

\-----

Once the initial shock wears off, Soren is surprisingly quick to adapt to his new situation and for that Ike is grateful. It may just be Soren’s way of coping with loss – prioritizing productivity over feelings – but it helps to keep Ike’s attention on what really matters rather than dwelling on Soren’s injury. He should be happy that Soren’s alive and well, all things considered, but it’s difficult to focus on a bright future when the present feels so bleak. More than once he receives a scolding from Soren after getting caught staring at what’s left of his tail.

For Ike, the thought of what comes next fills him with equal parts excitement and trepidation. On the one hand, he’ll have what he’s always wanted – a chance at a domestic life with the one he loves. On the other hand, it means keeping Soren – and their relationship – a secret from everyone except those who are especially close to him.

Add to that the high cost Soren had to pay to make this all possible and… Ike ends up having a difficult time feeling good about the situation – which leads to him staring at Soren’s stump, getting scolded, and repeating the cycle all over again.

Determined not to repeat his mistakes today, Ike takes a deep breath – coffee in one hand, breakfast in the other – and opens the door to the backroom of the Wildlife Center where Soren has been staying.

He’s surprised to see Titania sitting on the bed talking with Soren, but they both look twice as surprised to see him. Titania recovers quickly but Soren’s stunned expression stays even as he quickly gathers up a mess of papers spread across the bed.

“Uh, hi?” Ike says, feeling a little awkward. Titania stands up, hands in her lab coat pockets.

“Good morning, Ike. You’re a bit early,” She says with an enigmatic smile.

“Couldn’t sleep,” He says simply. Titania hums and gestures back towards Soren.

“Soren and I were just having a little chat,” She says, “I think he may have something to say to you.” She looks pointedly at Soren, “Isn’t that right?” Soren nods slowly, “I’ll leave you to it then,” She pats Ike on the shoulder as she exits the room. Ike watches after her a little baffled, but shrugs it off quickly and joins Soren on the bed.

“Morning,” Soren says, oddly bashful.

“Morning,” Ike holds up the paper sack he was carrying, “I brought donuts,” The gesture earns him a wide smile. Soren had taken quite a fondness towards sweets having never had any prior to meeting Ike.

“Thank you,” Soren ruffles through the bag, assessing his options while Ike nurses his coffee. He stays quiet and waits for Soren to bring up whatever topic Titania implied he wanted to talk about, but Soren actively distracts himself with confections to the point where Ike grows suspicious that Soren’s avoiding the topic altogether.

“Sooo…?” Ike encourages once they’re both two donuts in and debating a third.

“Sooo… what?” Soren mumbles and licks cinnamon sugar off his lip.

“So what did you want to say to me?” Ike asks. Soren pauses mid-chew, glances up at Ike, then promptly ignores the question. Ike quirks an eyebrow and locks his gaze on Soren’s face until the siren cracks under silent pressure.

Soren sighs and swallows. He avoids Ike’s eyes and fiddles with the stack of papers on his lap; a series of medical diagrams depicting the skeletons of killer whales. An odd choice of reading material, but Ike shouldn’t be surprised by that. Soren’s always been the curious type.

“Well…” He sounds nervous, “Titania and I have been talking over the last couple of days and… um…” Soren looks up at him, “We both agree that… you’d be better off with a human,” He mumbles the last bit as Ike’s heart plummets into his stomach.

 “What!?” He exclaims, “Soren, that’s ridic –” Soren puts his fingers against Ike’s lips to stop him from protesting and smiles softly.

“That’s why,” He continues, “I’m going to become one.”

Ike’s heart rockets back up to his throat and he nearly chokes on his surprise.

“Wh-what?!” He manages to gasp out.

“Titania offered to help me become more human,” Soren clarifies, “I wouldn’t actually be… but with some… _adjustments_ , she – we think I could at least pass for one.” He lets his hand drop and Ike snatches it between his own.

“W-what does that mean… exactly?” Ike asks with a great deal of unease.

Soren fidgets in his seat.

“The removal of my fins for a start –”

“No.”

“Ike, listen –”

“You’re talking about cutting off your fins,” Ike hisses angrily. Why should he listen to such nonsense? Removing Soren’s fins is like… is like… well he’s not sure exactly, but it certainly feels like self mutilation. What on earth is Titania thinking, putting these ideas into Soren’s head!?

“And removing the webbing between my fingers,” Soren amends.

“No.”

“Ike…”

“Do you even understand what that means?!” Ike shouts, “You’ll never be able to go back to the ocean –”

“I don’t _want_ to go back to the ocean,” Soren snaps back. He swallows and continues in a pitiful voice, “Do _you_ want me to go back…?” 

“No! No, Soren, of course not, but this isn’t… I didn’t word it right,” Ike fumbles. Soren traces one of the diagrams in his lap with his pale fingers. Ike reaches for them, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have reacted like that.”

“It was an honest reaction. You don’t have to apologize for it,” Soren’s voice is detached and it makes Ike shiver unpleasantly.

“No, I do,” He takes a breath and tries to gather his thoughts, “It’s just… you didn’t have a choice, you know? About your tail?” Soren nods slowly. Ike considers his next words carefully, “Hey,” he says, “If you hadn’t had this accident… and Titania offered to remove your tail and your fins, would you say yes?”

Soren’s small smile catches Ike off guard.

“I would,” He says.

“You would?” Ike asks, taken aback by the decisive answer.

“I would,” Soren confirms, “Listen,” He places his other hand on top of Ike’s, “There’s nothing left for me in the ocean, there never was. If I was offered the chance to stay on land with you, then I would take it.”

“That just makes it sounds like you’re doing this for my sake,” Ike mumbles, a touch uneasy.

“It’s not entirely for your sake. It’s for mine as well,” He toys with the edge of Ike’s sleeve, “I was alone in the ocean until I met you. A tail and some fins is a small price to pay for good company.”

“Is that what I am? Good company?” Ike teases weakly.

“The best,” Soren says, “And it’s the company I want to keep for as long as it will have me. And should it tire of me, I’ll still be better off on land than I ever was at sea.”

“I won’t tire of you,” Ike says and means every word.

“I know,” Soren lets his eyes close, “Ike, I’m going through with this whether I have your approval or not. Your permission isn’t necessary… although I’ll feel a lot better if I have it.”

Ike doesn’t know what to say. He still has mixed feelings about letting Soren willingly place himself under the knife, but then again… who is he to say what Soren could and couldn’t do with his body? No one, that’s who. No matter how Ike felt about it, this is Soren’s choice. Ike has no right to dissuade him.

So he won’t. He’ll hold his tongue and accept whatever Soren decides.

He lets Soren lift his hand and place their palms flat against each other. He shifts them slightly so his fingers rest on white webbing.

He understands what Soren means by the gesture. Without the webbing between his fingers, they could hold hands, lace their fingers together like normal couples do. That simple domestic life Ike dreamt of? Soren wants it too in his own way. He wants to meet Ike on the same level and this – the removal of his fins – is his way of getting there.

Soren lets his hand fall and his head drop.

“I don’t want to hide anymore, Ike,” He whispers.

Ike wraps his arms around his shoulders and pulls Soren close.

“Yeah, me neither,” He says.

“So I have your blessing then?” Soren asks hopefully. Ike chews the inside of his cheek for a moment.

“Yeah,” He says, “I’ll leave it up to you. Whatever you decide is fine with me.”

He feels Soren’s cheeks smiling against his collarbone and takes comfort in knowing that he made the right call.

They stay that way until Titania comes waltzing back through the door with coffee and a clipboard and startles them apart.

“I take it everything’s all worked out then, boys?” She says, setting her mug down on a nearby table.

“Yes,” Soren says hastily snatching up the stack of papers on his lap, “Everything’s all worked out.”

“Good,” She snags an office chair by the back plops herself down on it, “Let’s talk next steps,” She uncaps her pen with her teeth and scribbles something on her clipboard, “We’re short on time so the sooner we can do the surgery the better. I’m thinking this afternoon since it’s a weekend and everyone will be out.”

“Afternoon? As in, _this_ afternoon!?” Ike exclaims. Soren merely nods in agreement, as if he’s not at all surprised at the urgency.

“Yes Ike. This afternoon as in _today_. Which reminds me, you lost your phone right?” Ike nods slowly, “Go get a new one.”

“But my provider is two towns over…” Ike blinks. Titania changes topics fast enough to give him whiplash.

“I know,” Titania quirks an amused brow at him, “I’ll call Mist for you. Take this opportunity to spend some time with her and your friends. You won’t have much time for that after you take Soren home.”

“What, you mean now?” Ike says, “I can’t go there now – You said the surgery is today!”

“That’s exactly why you’re going. Once Soren’s released you won’t get the chance to see them for a long while,” Titania quips, “You’ll be too busy. Soren’s got to learn all about what it’s like to live as a human. I’m happy to help when I can, but the bulk of that responsibility is on you. Plus you’ll need to do a lot of work around the house to get it wheelchair ready – at least for a time – which reminds me; I need to ask Rhys about getting a wheelchair from the hospital…” She pulls out her phone and types out a quick message. Ike tries to argue with her but Soren nudges him with his elbow.

“Ike, it’s ok. I’ll mostly be asleep anyway,” He says, “Go spend some time with friends.”

“But –”

“No buts,” Titania clacks her phone down on the table and brandishes her pen at him, “A new phone, and a visit to your sister. That’s your priority over the next two days.”

Ike glances back and forth between them and reluctantly concedes. He’s outnumbered.

“Fine,” He sighs.

“Excellent. Now get out of here and get to work on that boat of yours before you run out of time to do that too. I’m going to go over the procedure with Soren,” She tugs him to his feet and shoves him out the door. He barely catches sight of Soren waving at him out of the corner of his eye.

“But the boat’s not launching for another month –” Ike protests.

“That’s nice. I’ll text you when the procedure’s done, ok?” She grins, “Have fun!”

 Before he can do anything the door is shut behind him with a loud click and Ike is left alone in the hallway.

He runs his fingers through his hair and tells himself not to worry. Soren will be fine, he’s in good hands.

…He hopes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I considered writing this whole chapter from Soren's perspective but it didn't really work considering I'd never swapped PoVs before now. We unfortunately lose a lot of contextual information that will probably need to be dropped as exposition instead but... eh. 
> 
> The things I do for consistency. :P


	5. Winter - Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ......You know how I said I had to split the last chapter into two chapters or it was gonna be like 12k?
> 
> .......................This chapter is like, 12k. Rip my efforts.
> 
> (friendly reminder that none of this is beta'd. If you find mistakes please leave them in the comments!)

Shopping for a cellular phone is overwhelming and unpleasant, at least for Ike. Mist has always been rather punctual about upgrading her phone and acquiring new accessories, but Ike would rather stare at screen frosted with cracks and scratches than suffer through the process of acquiring a new one.

Unfortunately, he needs a new phone.

…Well, _he_ doesn’t need one exactly. He has a spare in a desk at home – although, calling it a spare is rather misleading. It was his father’s phone. An older smartphone, dinged up along the edges with a mediocre camera. Ike hadn’t had the heart to dispose of it after his father’s death so he’d shoved it in a drawer and forgotten about it. He had even kept the number active as part of his family plan with Mist. It would be quite easy to simply turn the phone on and use it as his primary line and avoid the trip to the store altogether but Ike ends up buying a second phone anyway – a gift for Soren.

It’s a cheaper model, but still slightly more expensive than what he’d normally purchase for himself. He trusts that Soren will be far more careful with a new phone than Ike will, so Ike’s fine with repurposing his father’s phone and number as his own.

He sets up a bare-bones account in the parking lot under Soren’s name – he leaves the last name blank – and sends a quick text message to Titania. It’s the only phone number he has memorized after years of using her as his emergency contact.

He waits for, but does not expect, a reply. He knows that she’s still in surgery and as much as he wants to know how it’s going, he will have to wait until it’s over.

Ike pockets the phone, pulls out of the parking lot, and heads to his sister’s house.

\-----

“Iiiiiiike!” Mist pounces on him the moment she opens the door.

“Hey,” Ike chuckles and awkwardly returns her hug.

“Ugh, Ike! It’s been aaaaaaaages!” She whines.

“Can’t have been that long,” He lets her drag him into the apartment and flashes a quick grin at Boyd sitting on the couch. He waves back, shoving another handful of chips in his mouth.

“It’s been months!” She says, “I mean, I know it’s _kind of_ my fault since I was too busy this summer to come home, but still! Still!” Ike rolls his eyes and toes off his shoes.

“So what kept you so busy anyway? You never said,” Ike hangs his coat and turns to find Mist looking just the slightly bit apprehensive, “…Mist…?”

“Promise you won’t get mad?” She says, glancing up at him. Before Ike can answer, Boyd chimes in from the couch.

“She dropped out of college,” He says. Mist grabs a flip flop by the door and hurls it at him. She misses.

“Boyd!” She shouts.

“You _what?_ ” Ike can scarcely believe what he’s hearing, “You dropped out!?”

“I did _not_ drop out,” She says indignantly. Ike groans and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“You want a drink?” Boyd asks, setting his chip bag on the coffee table.

“Yes,” Ike says and plops himself down in a recliner. Boyd nods off to the kitchen and Mist takes his seat on the couch. Ike doesn’t say anything until Boyd comes back with two beers. He takes a swig of one of them – bitter as hell, but it helps takes the edge of slightly. Between Soren’s surgery and this… _thing_ with Mist, Ike figures that typically unwelcome numbing feeling might actually be helpful. He looks at her, steady and stern, “You wanna tell me what this is about?”

“It’s nothing big,” She mumbles, “I just found something I wanted to do more than nursing.”

“And that is…?” Ike urges.

“She’s been taking night classes to be a hair stylist,” Boyd says. Mist elbows him in the chest and he almost drops his beer, “Ow! Will you stop hitting me!?”

“I’ll stop hitting you when you stop talking,” She hisses. Ike sighs and swirls the beer around in the bottle. It’s rare he feels the urge to get drunk but it’s been one hell of a day and he’s sorely tempted.

“What about your scholarship?” Ike asks. They’ve never been very well off and that scholarship had been the only reason Mist could attend college at all. It was a chance Ike never got, unable to keep his grades high enough to maintain a sports scholarship. Their father had been so proud – one child off to college the other inheriting the family business. What would he say if he knew Mist didn’t want to continue?

“Ike, it’s ok,” She says, “I can get my associates degree at the end of the semester, so it’s not like it went to waste,” Ike finds that difficult to believe, “So you know, I can go back if this doesn’t work out.”

“You’ll have to pay for it yourself if you do,” He says, taking another swig.

“I paid for beauty school. I can handle paying college… _If_ I go back anyway,” She crosses her arms, “Besides, this way I can work closer to home.”

Ike blinks.

“Huh?” He says dumbly.

“We’ve been thinking about moving back,” Boyd supplies, “You know, to be closer to family.”

“There’s a salon near Calil’s. I have an interview there next week,” Mist says with a wide grin, then elbows Boyd again and gives him a pointed look.

“Uh, and I was thinking about going into fishing,” Boyd rubs the back of his neck. Ike is a bit too stunned to respond so Boyd adds, “Need an extra hand?”

“Uh, yeah. Yeah. I mean, I could yeah,” Ike stammers. He’d forgotten that, without Soren on the boat, Ike was free to take on extra help again. Hell, even if Soren was on board, Boyd was an ideal choice. He’s practically family at this point. Mist tilts her head as if she’s expecting something – what that something is, Ike isn’t sure. She shares a look with Boyd and leans forward with a small concerned frown.

“…Is something wrong, Ike?” She asks.

“Huh?” Ike startles. He’s been staring at his beer, a little lost in thought.

“It’s just…” She rubs her lower lip in thought, “I thought you’d be a bit more excited or something.”

“Yeah, you seem kind of distracted,” Boyd adds.

Ike lets out a heavy sigh, rests the bottle against his lips but doesn’t drink. The phone in his pocket feels heavy. Is it on silent? Is the surgery still in progress? Is it going well?

“Sorry,” He says into the bottle, “It’s uh,” he clears his throat, “Been a long day.”

Mist starts to get up when the door slams open and Ranulf busts in, two pizzas in one hand and a liter of soda under the other.

“I got the party goods!” He shouts a bit too enthusiastically.

“Is that pizza?” Boyd vaults over the back of the couch to take it from him.

“Is that beer!?” Ranulf grins, then quickly nods, “Hey, Ike!” Ike offers back a bit of a weak smile.

“Yeah, you want one?” Boyd asks.

“Uh, yeah? Of course,” Ranulf laughs and sets the pizzas and soda on the coffee table and sits on the floor.

“I’ll get the plates,” Mist sighs and walks off to the kitchen with Boyd. Ranulf leans back on his hands and smiles at Ike. At least he’s in a good mood.

“So how’s things?” He asks.

“Uh, good. I guess,” Ike says, trying to match his energy and failing terribly.

“Real convincing,” Ranulf snorts. Ike doesn’t have much to say to that, “Everything going well with you and Soren?” Ike pauses mid-sip, then downs the rest of the bottle, “Easy there, buddy,” Ranulf warns. Ike wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and sinks further into his chair, “You uh… wanna talk about it?”

“S’just a rough day,” Ike mumbles. As if on cue the phone in his pocket rings and effectively silences whatever question Ranulf was about to ask.

One message from Titania.

His hands shake. It takes him several tries to successfully swipe and unlock the screen, but his efforts are rewarded by a rather poorly lit picture of Soren. He’s asleep, bandages coiled around his arms and fingers and looking paler than usual but the sight of him brings Ike an incredible amount of relief. He lets out a long shaking breath, the edge of the phone pressed against his forehead, and closes his eyes.

“…Everything ok?” Ranulf asks tentatively. Ike looks up and clears his throat.

“Yeah. Yeah, I uh… I gotta make a quick call,” Ranulf watches him leave with a concerned expression. He passes Mist and Boyd on their way back from the kitchen and decides to hole himself up in there. He sends Titania a quick video chat request and immediately the phone rings.

When he answers, he’s greeted by Titania’s exhausted face, dim lights and the faint sounds of the heart monitor. He can see Soren in the background near the edge of the screen, chest rising and falling slowly in sleep. Rhys is with him, attending to the IV bag. Titania must have asked him to help with the procedure. Having a husband as an anesthesiologist can be quite handy, apparently.

“Hey,” Ike says rather hoarsely, “How’d it go?” Titania makes a muffled noise as she rubs her eyes.

“Better than expected,” She says, “Couple of minor hiccups but nothing we couldn’t handle.”

“Good evening, Ike,” Rhys waves from Soren’s bedside, gentile as always.

“Hey Rhys,” Ike waves at the phone.

“Did you want to talk to him?” Rhys asks, “He’s been fading in and out. We might catch him at a good moment.”

“Yes! Please,” Ike says a little too quickly. Titania chuckles and angles the phone towards the bed.

Soren looks peaceful, dark hair pulled away from his face. His eyes flutter blearily but don’t open but it does Ike’s heart good to see him relaxed – even if it’s only because of the drugs. It feels strange to see him without the long protruding fins on his forearms but it also makes him smile. Perhaps part of him thought Soren wouldn’t go through with the surgery – thought that he might panic at the last minute. But there he was, clean linen hiding what would surely be horrifying scars that Ike was determined to love.

“Whoaaa –” Ranulf’s startling voice by his ear nearly causes him to drop his phone, “That is the most intense case of vitiligo I’ve ever seen…” Ike opens his mouth to chastise him but –

“Oh wow, he really _is_ that pale. I thought it was just makeup,” Mist chimes in from the other side.

“Hey Titania, hey Rhys,” Boyd says with mouthful of pizza.

“Guys, what the hell!?” Ike hisses. Titania just laughs.

“I take it you haven’t told them anything yet,” Titania says with an amused lilt in her voice.

“I didn’t get the chance,” Ike grumbles.

“What happened to him?” Mist asks, “Is he ok?”

“He will be,” Titania says. She turns her attention back to Ike, “We’ll talk when you get back, alright?”

“Yeah, ok. Tell him I called?” Ike says with a small smile.

“You got it. See you later,” She waves at them and the screen goes dark. Ike glances at each of his friends in turn then leans back against the counter.

“So what happened to Soren, man?” Ranulf asks.

“Yeah, is he ok?” Mist adds.

“Is this the reason you’ve been so distracted?” Boyd plucks a pepperoni off his slice and eats it. Ike rubs the back of his neck and pockets Soren’s phone.

“It’s complicated,” Ike says with the expectation that someone would cut him off. When they don’t, he crosses his arms and continues, “You guys remember that storm about a week ago?”

“Yeah. I mean, kinda,” Mist says.

“There was an accident,” Ike licks his lips, “A boat slipped its mooring and Soren got trapped beneath it when it ran aground,” Mist gasps audibly, Ranulf and Boyd simply look stunned.

“Oh m god…” She whispers.

“He’s lucky to be alive but he um…” Ike swallows, “The boat crushed his lower half. They had to amputate half his tai – legs,” He catches himself just in time, “He had some… reconstructive surgery today so I was a bit distracted.”

“Geezus, Ike,” Ranulf says.

“You ok?” Boyd sounds genuinely concerned.

“Better now that I know it went well,” Ike chuckles.

“So…” Mist says tentatively, “What happens now?”

Ike wasn’t expecting questions like that. He takes a moment and no on interrupts.

“Actually,” He begins, “He’ll be… staying with me.”

“With you?” Mist asks, “But what about his family? They wouldn’t just let him –” Ike smiles sadly at her and she gets the implied message, “Oh…”

Ike shifts uncomfortably while the others exchange poignant glances. Mist lets out a big huff and hip checks Boyd.

“Well now we _have_ to move back home!” Mist declares.

“Ow! What? I thought we were already doing that?” Boyd says.

“Well yeah, but now I _really_ have to get that job! I can’t let my brother take care of his boyfriend alone!” Ike feels his cheeks heat up. It’s the first time anyone’s called Soren his boyfriend and he feels a bit more bashful than he thinks he should.

“He’s been doing just fine so far –” Boyd grumbles.

“Aaaactually, Mist is probably right,” Ranulf says.

“Hey!” Ike sputters while Ranulf laughs at him.

“I don’t mean it like that,” He says, “But taking care of an amputee is no joke, Ike. He won’t even be able to go to the bathroom by himself for a while. With you working full-time on the boat, taking care of him is… well it’s gonna be tough,” Ike hadn’t thought of that, “You’ll have to make your house wheelchair accessible if you want him to be able to do anything by himself – at least until his physical therapy starts.”

“Right. I still need to get a wheelchair,” Ike mutters under his breath and then pales a bit when he realizes that he’s said his thoughts out loud.

“Won’t the hospital give you one?” Mist tilts her head to the side.

“Uhh,” Ike scrambles for an excuse, “His uh… insurance won’t cover it,” That’s believable enough and still not a total lie. Soren doesn’t have any insurance so of course it wouldn’t cover the cost of a wheelchair. Mist makes a disgusted sound.

“Figures,” She grumbles, “They never cover anything.”

“Wait, if they won’t cover the wheelchair, they’re probably not covering his physical therapy, right?” Ranulf says.

“Right,” Ike nods. Ranulf claps him on the back.

“Well aren’t you a lucky son of a bitch to have a friend like me then!” Ranulf laughs boisterously and hoists himself up on the counter like a smug cat.

“…I am?” Ike murmurs skeptically. He can’t imagine why. Ranulf’s a great friend and all but what does that have to do with Soren and wheelchairs…?

“Uh, yeah,” Ranulf says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “Don’t… tell me you forgot?” Ike stares back at him wordlessly, and Ranulf rolls his eyes, “Dude, I’m a physical therapist.”

“I thought you only did athletes?” Ike says, puzzled.

“He does,” Boyd snickers. Mist and Ranulf shoot him equally dirty looks and he shuts his grinning mouth.

“I don’t just work with athletes,” He scoffs, “I work with all sorts of people. _And_ ,” He stresses, “I totally have a wheelchair at home you can have.”

“You do!?” Ike’s surprise bleeds into his voice.

“…Why do you have a wheelchair?” Mist asks, dubiously.

“He has like, twelve,” Boyd adds.

“What?!” Ranulf crosses his arms and pouts, “I can’t help it if they’re comfortable.”

“Can I really have one?” Ike asks hopefully.

“Of course! I’ll hook you up with my prosthetics guy too. Name’s Stefan. He’s the best you can get around here.” Ranulf chatters excitedly.

“I’m… not sure that will be necessary…” What would he do, give Soren a single leg? Have him bounce around lke a human pogo stick? That’d be a fun thing to explain to people.

“If you’re worried about the cost, don’t. I got sources ok? I’ll even help you out with rehab when he’s cleared for it in a couple weeks. That’s like what, around Christmas?” Ranulf hops off the counter and slings an arm around Ike’s shoulders.

“…I’d have to ask Soren first –”

“There’s no way he’ll say no,” Ranulf laughs, “In the meantime, I’ll show you how to massage his thighs. Gotta keep that blood flowing while he’s sittin’ all day.”

“You are not massaging my thighs,” Ike lets himself be dragged back to the living room. Mist and Boyd follow closely behind.

“What?! C’mon! How else am I gonna demonstrate...” He looks over his shoulder at Boyd.

“Oh no. No no no. You’re not massaging my thighs either,” Boyd shakes his head.

“Mist?” Ranulf asks.

“No.”

“You guys are no fun,” Ranulf grumbles.

The rest of the evening is spent eating pizza and watching Ranulf kneel on the floor explicitly kneading pillows while babbling on and on with his technical explanation about the benefits of post-surgery massages.

A mediocre comedy show plays quietly on the television as Ike drifts off to sleep in his chair.

\-----

Getting Soren home is… an ordeal.

He feels so small in Ike’s arms, timid and jumpy at even the smallest of noises. He clings to Ike until he’s set in the chair, and then he clings to the armrests as Ike wheels him out of the Wildlife Center and helps him into the truck. Vehicles are unfamiliar to him – at least from the inside – and Ike is glad that the ride home is short. Soren stiffens and squeaks every time the truck’s movement changes or another vehicle passes them. He’s nearly hyperventilating by the time they reach home.

Home…

The word reverberates in Ike’s mind as he looks over at Soren in the passenger seat. This is Soren’s home now, _their_ home, and when Soren meets his eyes, Ike can only smile and say:

“Welcome home, Soren.”

Soren then back at him, still a little fearful, but also a little excited.

There’s no ramp yet, so Ike carries Soren inside and leaves him on the couch for a few minutes while he retrieves the wheelchair. By the time he returns, Soren has wriggled his way to one end of the couch and busied himself with a nearby lamp. He flicks it on and off and on again, frowning like he’s trying to puzzle out how the damned thing works.

Everything in the house is considered a marvel to the siren. Many of the items he’s seen pictures of or read about, some he’s even seen in some videos on Ike’s phone, but seeing them in person is overwhelming. He has a million questions and Ike barely has enough answers to match. By nightfall, they’re both exhausted that Ike is almost tempted to skip dinner altogether.

He doesn’t. He throws some frozen fish in the oven and puts on a pot of rice while Soren dozes off on the couch, waking only to eat a few bites and fall right back asleep. He doesn’t wake even when Ike carries him to bed.

_Their_ bed.

Ike supposes that this is what life will be like now; Soren curled up beside him at night, shared breakfasts and comfortable conversations filled with more inquiries than Ike could every satisfy.

It’s a pleasant thought.

He pulls one of Soren’s bandaged hands out from beneath the covers and presses their palms together lightly. He lets his thick fingers slot seamlessly between Soren’s, one by one and marvels at how well they fit together. The stitches are still fresh so he takes care not to apply much pressure and stays like that until he too falls asleep.

\-----

The following weeks are the busiest Ike’s had in a long, long time and it’s mostly his own fault.

He neglects working on his boat for the first week, too preoccupied with helping Soren adjust, leaving only a few short days to finish all his maintenance work before his scheduled launch. He tries to postpone it, but to his surprise Soren encourages him to go. He’s nervous about leaving Soren home alone, but taking him to the boat yard isn’t an option – it’s definitely not wheelchair friendly.

He finally relents and spends several stressful days fumbling about like an inexperienced intern. He still makes his deadline, but only just.

Soren on the other hand, adjusts rather well. The house is packed with unfamiliar things Soren spends hours studying, but he ultimately spends most of his time on the couch reading and watching videos on the phone Ike gave him. As far as Ike can figure, Soren uses the phone as a sort of visual dictionary to look up a research the use of random objects he finds throughout the house.

This includes food, much to Ike’s amusement. One night he returns home to find Soren munching away on dried spaghetti while watching the television. Another time he finds an onion in the fridge with a large bite taken out of it. Both incidents leave him roaring with laughter while Soren hides his embarrassment under a blanket on the couch.

It’s the night before his boat launched when Ike comes home and finds, for the first time, dinner already on the table.

…Or at least, he’s pretty sure it’s dinner by the way Soren beams at him and pressures him into a chair and then rolls back to the kitchen.

He returns with something that looks like a sandwich at first glance, but it’s filled with overcooked pasta and dripping with tomato sauce – something like a meatball sub but on wonder bread and without the meatballs. It’s not very appetizing but that prideful, eager expression on Soren’s face makes him eat it without complaint.

…Although he does introduce Soren to the cooking channel on television after eating. He’s instantly hooked but realizes quickly that he doesn’t understand measurements or fractions and suddenly Ike’s back at the library looking for books on basic mathematics.

Titania stops by every day at lunch to check on Soren’s wounds but ends up tutoring him a bit more than doctoring. She re-arranges the entire kitchen and moves the dining room table to serve as an island that Soren can use as a worktop while still in his chair. Soren takes to her rather well, much to Ike’s delight. It puts him at ease to know that Soren’s not completely alone all day, and that he’s made a friend – well, sort of. Titania’s more of a motherly figure, but the fact that the two get along is all he cares about.

They text throughout the day, exchanging pictures more often than words as neither of them enjoy communicating through written word. Ike could just call him, but he’s never been good on the phone and he doubts Soren is either so he sates himself with pictures and text and that elated smile on Soren’s face when he comes home.

But it’s not all pasta and roses. Soren’s skin isn’t acclimated to being out of the water and he needs to rub heavy duty moisturizers into his skin at least once a day. Titania says it won’t be necessary forever but it’s still an ordeal and Soren insists on doing it himself despite struggling to reach everywhere he needs to. He also refuses Ike’s help with massaging his stump or using the bathroom. It’s the foundation of many an argument while short-lived, really bother Ike.

It’s like Soren doesn’t want to be touched by him – ok, that’s not entirely accurate. Soren is happy to curl up next to Ike on the couch or in bed, but whenever Ike goes for his stump Soren slaps his hand away.

Ike worries that perhaps Soren is harboring some resentment towards him over the loss of his tail. He knows that’s not true but… knowing isn’t the same thing as believing.

Still, he tries not to let it bother him too much. After all, Soren is here beside him, sleeping, waking, eating, laughing… he doesn’t dare to ask for more even if he wants it. He’s happy enough with small, stolen kisses and those moments when they lace their fingers together once the bandages come off.

He’s happy.

They’re happy.

That’s what matters so he bites his tongue.

\-----

It’s three o’clock on a Thursday, and Ike is officially a nervous wreck.

Any second now, Mist, Boyd and Ranulf are going to show up at his house. For dinner supposedly, but he knows they’re all far more interested in meeting Soren. Ike’s been dodging their requests for weeks, but with Mist finally out of school for the holidays and Ranulf on vacation, he’s out of excuses to keep them away.

Honestly, he’s not too worried about Mist or even Boyd, it’s Ranulf that’s problematic. Ranulf has been itching to get stuck into Soren’s rehabilitation and Ike _really_ doesn’t want to explain why Soren has a singular stump in a place he should have two.

“Ike, stop pacing. You’ll wear a hole through the floor,” Soren’s teasing has a faint hint of uneasiness to it.

“Right. Sorry,” Ike takes a seat on the couch next to Soren’s chair, hands pressed together in front of his face, “I’m just a little nervous.”

“Yes, and you’re making _me_ nervous. So stop it,” Soren adjusts the blanket over his stump. Ike takes his hand and laces their fingers together, but doesn’t say anything else. He doesn’t need to. The gesture is enough for Soren to understand him. It’s something Ike’s noticed since they’ve started living together; they both talk less but say more. Little gestures and casual touches are more common than they were before and somehow they form a language all their own.

It makes him smile.

The door bell rings and Soren startles – a sign that he’s far more nervous than he lets on. Ike releases him and opens the front door to a gleeful Mist who tackles him in a hug as soon as she sees him.

“Merry Christmas!” She shouts with a playful laugh.

“Hey, Mist. Hey, Boyd,” Ike gives Boyd a nod that he reciprocates.

“Where’s Soren? I’m _dying_ to meet him!” Mist glances around the room without letting go and squeals with delight when she spots Soren in the living room. She bounces over to him with a particularly perky smile and says, “Hello! You must be Soren. I’m Ike’s sister, Mist!”

Soren isn’t used to this level of enthusiasm. He remains frozen in his chair for an awkwardly long moment before responding.

“Hello, Mist,” He says quietly, barely daring to meet her gaze. Mist’s smile doesn’t falter and she proceeds to prattle on a bit too quickly and reaching for his hair.

“I’m supposed to put this in the oven,” Boyd holds up a ceramic dish covered in foil, “Baked mac’n cheese, I think.”

“Right, right. C’mon then,” He spares a quick glance back at Mist and Soren. Soren’s cheeks are flushed with embarrassment as Mist fawns over his hair. It makes him a little uneasy to leave those two alone, but after Titania, Ike trusts Mist the most. She’s a bit overbearing and a little hyper at times, but she’s open-minded enough to make Ike believe she could accept a mermaid into the family without much fuss. Plus she can hold a conversation all by herself. That takes a lot of pressure off of him when it comes to navigating the nuances of verbal human interaction with anyone apart from Ike, Titania and Rhys.

Mist will be good practice.

He pops the baked mac’n cheese in the oven. Boyd, leans against the counter.

“Hey, so I’ve been talking to this girl –” Boyd begins, and instantly backpedals when he catches sight of Ike’s venomous glare, “Not like that! Geezus Ike, I’m dating your sister,” He groans, “Anyway, Calil introduced me to her last week. Name’s Mia. Family used to fish lobster but I guess they had to sell the boats for one reason or another. She’s looking to get back into fishing, and she’s only a town over. Thought you might want to talk to her and see if she’d be cool working with me and you.”

“We do ground fish though,” Ike says, “You know, haddock, cod…”

“I know what ground fish are, Ike,” Boyd rolls his eyes, “In case you forgot, I used to fish with you and your Dad,” Ike grabs a can of soda from the fridge and cracks it open.

“Mm,” He hums, “So she’s fine if it’s not lobster?”

“Yeah, she said she was. She wants to buy her own boat eventually, so I don’t know how long she’d stick around,” Boyd spots a bag of chips on the counter and tears it open, “Thoughts?”

Ike shrugs.

“I think it sounds pretty good,” He says, “With three people I can finally run the long-lines again.”

“Yeah, I dunno how you managed this whole year without them,” Boyd stuffs a handful of chips in his mouth. He frowns and nudges his head towards the living room, “What are they doing?”

“Huh?” Ike turns, “Oi, Mist! What are you doing?”

Mist pauses mid-snip, scissors in one hand, some of Soren’s hair and a comb in the other.

“Ike, it’s fine. I asked her to,” Soren says calmly.

“All these split ends…” Mist laments, “It’s like you’ve never cut your hair before,” She giggles as she expertly trims the back, “But don’t worry! I’m gonna make you look like a million bucks! No more of this snarly carpet hanging off the back of your head.”

“Um, thanks… I guess,” Soren says with an uncertain lilt.

There’s a quick knock on the door before it swings open.

“Merry Christmas!” Titania shouts with an incredibly large smile on her face. Rhys peeks in from behind her and gives Ike a small wave while he toes off his shoes.

“Hey, Titania, Rhys,” Titania offers Ike the enormous steaming ham she’d been holding, and he takes it.

“We got you a little something,” Titania says to him after she greets Soren from across the room, “Ranulf’s picking it up for me.”

“I thought we said no gifts this year,” Ike cocks a brow at her. She shrugs.

“Yes well, it’s less of a Christmas gift and more of a… late housewarming gift for you and Soren. Mostly for Soren,” She says. Ike lets out a pleased breath. Soren doesn’t have much. Between working and helping Soren adjust to life as a human, they haven’t exactly had the time to go shopping. He’s not big on gifts, but he can hardly begrudge Titania for wanting to give Soren some of the things he lacks.

“I’m sure he’ll appreciate it,” He says.

Mist takes the opportunity to launch herself at Titania in greeting, while Rhys slips into the kitchen with Ike.

“He seems to be adjusting rather well,” Rhys says gesturing towards Soren with a gentle smile. Ike returns it.

“Yeah, he is,” He watches as Soren blushes from repressed embarrassment while Mist and Titania laugh about something or other. It’s like he doesn’t know how to handle being included in a conversation involving multiple people – which is probably the case, given his history. He removes the foil from the ham, “But I’m surprised to see you. I thought you were working tonight.”

“I’m on call, but otherwise I have the evening off,” He stifles a yawn, “Is everything ready? Shall I set the table?”

“We’re still waiting on Ranulf, but yeah, if you could. Thanks,” The timer goes off and suddenly Titania’s behind him, snatching dishes from the oven at a speed and finesse typically reserved for mothers. It’s incredible how quickly the table goes from bare to a picturesque feast under the care of Titania and Rhys.

He leans against the counter and watches the scene in front of him. It feels surreal, watching Titania and Rhys fiddling with the table, Mist and Boyd laughing with Soren in the other room… He feels connected but separate from it all and in that moment he finds himself wishing his father was still around to see this.

But in the meantime, he should probably stop Mist before she cuts Soren’s hair too short.

Ike shivers at the rush of cold air that sweeps over the room when the door bursts open and Ranulf saunters inside.

“Hey hey hey! Merry Christmas, guys!” Ranulf chirps, “I come bearing gifts!” He holds up a huge, rather fat box, “Well, one gift. Whatever. Hey, Ike!”

“Is that what I ordered?” Titania shouts from the dining room table.

“You betcha,” Ranulf grins, “I just hope they fit. ‘Feels weird using measurements I didn’t take myself…”

“What is it?” Ike is legitimately curious. The way Ranulf and Titania are talking make him think the box is full of clothing – something Soren could really use – but sizing shouldn’t be that big of a deal.

Ike doesn’t even know his own sizes.

He reaches for the box but Ranulf lifts it over his head.

“Ah ah ah!” He tsks, “This is for Soren to open after dinner. Speaking of, can we eat yet? I’m starved.”

“I’m all set here. Just have to sweep up a little,” Mist says fishing around her purse for a pocket mirror. She finds it and hands it to Soren, “Whaddaya think?” She asks excitedly.

He looks good, Ike thinks. Really good. Soren’s hair is at least a foot shorter, layered and feathered in a way that frames his face nicely. It’s still long enough to tie back using the clasp Ike gave him all those months ago, but it does feel a little strange to see him all brushed at groomed. It’s enough for Ike’s mouth to go a little dry when Soren catches him staring.

Soren says nothing at first. He studies his reflection, tilts his head from side to side. He turns to Ike after a few moments and asks, “Do you like it?”

Of course Ike’s opinion would be Soren’s primary concern.

“Do you?” Ike shoots back. Soren blushes and nods, “Good. I think so too. Mist did a really good job…” He reaches out to brush some strands behind Soren’s ear and marvels at what a difference a little grooming makes.

He really needs to buy Soren a brush. A good one.

“Pay that compliment to me directly, brother dearest,” Mist’s voice is amused, “And try not to let it get so long and tangled next time. I don’t think deadlocks suit him.”

Ike is very much inclined to agree.

\-----

Food is definitely Ike’s favorite part of the holidays – any holiday for that matter. He’s not the best cook, so while he eats well all year, he rarely gets to feast on slow roasted meats and homemade desserts that are too time consuming to prepare during the average week. Plus, there’s nothing quite like friends and family around to make the food taste twice as nice as usual.

…Then again, it’s hard to savor his dinner when Soren is a fidgety mess beside him.

At first, Ike suspects Soren’s just a little uncomfortable and overwhelmed at the sheer number of raucous conversations taking place all at once. He responds only when addressed directly, and otherwise busies himself with small, bird-like bites of his meal. Ike tries to comfort him as subtly as he can by gently placing a hand on Soren’s lap, but Soren swats him away almost instantly. He shares a panicked but apologetic look with Ike, then laces their fingers together and gives it a small, reassuring squeeze.

Ike wonders how much longer Soren will keep refusing him. It hurts just a little bit more every time he’s rebuked.

He’s comforted slightly when Soren doesn’t release his left hand and continues to nibble at his meal. They stay that way until it’s time for dessert. As soon as their hands are apart, Soren starts fidgeting again. As much as Ike enjoys their current company, he considers encouraging everyone to take an early night. Five guests and three new faces is probably too much to handle for Soren’s first time socializing.

Soren barely touches his chocolate cheesecake – incredibly unusual given Soren’s love for bitter sweets – and waits for everyone else to finish while shooting small distracted glances towards the living room. Ike ends up eating his share. No sense letting it go to waste. There’s more in the fridge if Soren changes his mind later. He’s halfway done when Titania shoots Ike a coy little smile and addresses Soren.

“Would now be a good time to open your gift?” She asks him.

“Yes,” Soren says a little too hastily. Ike frowns. Has Soren been distracted by Titania’s present this entire time? It’s almost enough to make him a little jealous.

“Ike, do you mind?” Titania gets up from her chair and stretches.

“Nah, go ahead,” He says. Soren looks a little relieved and maybe a touch anxious at Ike’s words.

“Ike, you wanna put the food away? Boyd and I will take care of the dishes,” Mist offers while stacking plates. Boyd’s phone picks that exact moment to go off.

“Uh, crap. I’ll help in a second. Mom’s calling me,” He wanders off into the living room to take the call. Mist’s cheeks puff out in annoyance.

“I’ll help you, Mist,” Rhys offers with a small chuckle.

“Ranulf, where did you put the box?” Titania asks.

“I put it – eh, I’ll just show ya,” Ranulf bounces to his feet and trots behind Soren and Titania into the living room.

“I was gonna ask for help putting this away, but oooooook then,” Ike rolls his eyes, grabs a few half eaten side dishes and walks them back to the kitchen.

He keeps trying to peek into the living room between boxing up leftovers. It would be a lie to say he wasn’t curious about Titania’s gift especially in light of Soren’s distracted behavior. It’s almost as if he knows what it is or at least has a very good idea.

Ike frowns at a tupperware full of cranberry sauce. Ranulf said he, “hoped they’d fit.” That implies clothing, right? Or something like it? Has Soren ever been that excited about getting clothes before?

Well, yes, actually he has. He was so happy about receiving that rashguard from Ike all those months ago that he rarely takes it off. It’s still his garment of choice.

So yes, clothes are very feasible… not… something Ike would expect him to be so distracted over, but still feasible.

“Did the cranberries offend you or something?” Mist laughs from her spot at the sink.

“Huh?”

“You’re staring at them like they just insulted your – oh never mind,” She waves her sudsy hands at him with an amused grin, “If you’re just going to stand there, then get out of the kitchen. Rhys and I will take care of things in here.”

Ike chews the inside of his cheek and glances over his shoulder. He can’t really see anything going on in the living room from the kitchen and he’s _really_ curious.

“I’ll uh… just go check in on Soren and Titania. I’ll be right back!” He says. Mist just shoos him away and continues chattering cheerfully with Rhys.

The living room, however, is completely barren save for Boyd who finishes his phone call with an exasperated sigh. Ike glances around the room for the others, but he can’t even hear them.

“…Where’s Titania and Soren?” Ike asks. Boyd looks up and pockets his phone.

“She took him to the bedroom to try some stuff on or something,” He grabs his beer from the coffee table and chugs it.

“Right,” Ike murmurs, “Sooo… where’s Ranulf?” Boyd shrugs.

“Dunno. Bathroom, I think,” he says and takes another sip.

He’s nervous. Just a bit. It’s the first time this evening Soren’s been completely out of sight. Titania is more than trustworthy but… with so many other people around, people he hasn’t exactly… come out to yet about Soren’s condition, being apart from him makes Ike incredibly uneasy.

“…Maybe I should go check on them,” Ike walks towards the hallway and stops when Boyd blocks him with one leg from his seat on the couch.

“Dude, relax,” He says, “You’re acting like someone stole your baby.”

Ike scowls at him but relents, although he remains standing. He debates going back into the kitchen to busy himself in there with… _something_ , but faint voices coming from the hallway stop him.

“Easy there, buddy,” Definitely Ranulf’s voice. Who is he talking to?

“That’s it, one at a time. You got this,” That’s Titania’s voice... But she’s with Soren, isn’t she?

A small flutter of panic pops in Ike’s chest.

Are Ranulf and Titania _both_ with Soren? It certainly doesn’t sound like they’re talking to each other so they must be with him.

But that’s not good right? What if Ranulf sees Soren’s tail?! What if he actually gets a good look at that so-called vitiligo and realizes Soren’s skin is just _different_?!

Ike swallows hard. He’s not prepared to have this discussion. Not yet. He’ll have to have it someday but _please_ don’t let it be today.

“Easy, easy. There you go – ow! Geezus you’re heavy,” Ranulf whines. Ike’s aware that Boyd is staring at him – probably a little concerned – but he’s also not sure what to do. He remains rooted to the spot and just hopes that the worst just… doesn’t happen, “Ok, you’re fine. Just… try again. Lean on me if you have to. That’s it…”

“You’re doing good,” Titania encourages.

What the fuck are they even doing? It doesn’t take more than a few seconds to cross the hallway… they’ve been there for at least five minutes.

He’s just about had it when he catches sight of a shock of spiked hair – definitely Ranulf’s – and soon after both he and Titania creep into view.

He opens his mouth to interrogate them, but the sight before him rips the air from his lungs and shoves it down his legs so hard his knees begin to quake.

Whatever he was expecting, it wasn’t this.

Ranulf’s grin is a little guilty; Titania looks amused, but pleased and Soren –

“You ok, man?” Ranulf asks, but Ike can’t quite process the words.

He doesn’t know what he’s looking at or even where to look. His eyes dart everywhere.

Soren has one arm slung around Ranulf’s neck, the other around Titania, his face determined but also a little pained. He chews his lip like he’s scared of what Ike will say or do, but he still drips with excitement the same way he used to drip with seawater on the deck of Ike’s boat.

As Ike’s eyes roll down the length of Soren’s body his heart begins to pound harder, harder, _harder,_ until Ike can’t feel anything but its erratic thrum echoing through every limb, because Soren should not be staring at him at eye level. Soren should be at waist level while seated in his wheelchair, and yet…

That wheelchair is nowhere to be found.

It’s then that Ike realizes exactly what’s in front of him. He realizes why Soren’s been so jumpy and distracted. He realizes that…

Soren… is standing.

On his own.

The stump of a tail Ike remembered is split into two and stuffed into stretchy surf shorts that go all the way to his… knees?

Is that what he has?

Knees balancing somewhat awkwardly on sixteen inches of plastic, rubbed and metal…

Legs.

Soren has legs.

Prosthetic fucking legs.

They’re the reason Soren wouldn’t let Ike touch him, the reason he told Ike to visit Mist during his surgery, the reason he’s been a jittery bundle of nerves all evening.

Ike finally understands and it fucks him up in the best of ways.

“Are you… crying…?” The concern is so thick in Ranulf’s voice that it prompts Ike to touch his cheeks.

They’re wet.

“Shit…” Ike chokes out.

He can barely feel his limbs.

“Ike…” Soren reaches for him, tries to take a step – _a step_ – towards him and trips over his own _feet_.

Ike opens his arms on reflex and they instinctively wrap around the stumbling siren, but his legs give out and suddenly they’re both on the floor, Ike in a surreal fit of laughing and crying.

“What on earth is going on in he –” Mist stops mid-step as she and Rhys join them. She makes a garbled sort of happy squeal.

“I-Ike?” Soren asks and winces slightly when one of his knees hits the carpet. Ike wants to answer but he can’t. His vision is blurry from tears and his throat is full of blissed out laughter and all he can think about the sneaky little siren pressed against him.

“I think he likes them,” Titania nudges Ranulf with her elbow and it makes him laugh. Soren pulls back just enough to look Ike in the eyes. He looks hopeful and a little scared, and all Ike wants to do is pull him close again, but he waits.

“…Do you like them?” Soren asks quietly.

Ike gifts him a brilliant smile.

“I _love_ them.”

\-----

Ike barely remembers the rest of the evening, but he does remember a plethora of congratulations and happy faces as his guests went home early.

He nuzzles the back of Soren’s neck.

Ranulf had given him a bunch of instructions and a stack of pamphlets; something about getting fitted for proper prosthetics later and don’t forget to massage his thighs and make sure he does his stretches and blah blah blah.

It was important information, sure, but Ike can always ask him later.

Right now, the most important thing is the black and white bundle of surprises nestled between his legs in the bathtub.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Ike mumbles. He should be annoyed, he really should, but he just can’t find it in himself. He’s too drunk on excitement to sound anything but fond.

Soren hums thoughtfully as he lathers his hands with soap.

“I thought you wouldn’t approve,” He says cautiously.

“Why’d you think that?” Ike asks.

“Well…” Soren mumbles, “You weren’t exactly… _thrilled_ when I told you about my fins. If I told you I was also going to split my tail it two… I was afraid you’d say no.”

Ike opens his mouth to refute, but decides to bite Soren’s shoulder instead and gets a nice yelp in response. If he’s honest, there’s a very good chance that he would have said no had Soren asked for his blessing. He would have felt too guilty knowing that Soren was going to go through so much trauma just for his sake.

“Besides,” Soren continues, “We weren’t even sure it would work. There was a good chance that we’d do the surgery and I still wouldn’t be able to walk,” He rubs Ike’s knee until it’s barely visible beneath the soap suds, “Not that I did a very good job today…”

“You did _amazing_ ,” Ike breaths.

“I didn’t do anything,” Soren mumbles, sliding beneath the water. Ike hoists him back up and pulls him against his chest again.

“You took the first step,” Ike says with a bright smile, “That’s amazing.”

Soren doesn’t say anything but he doesn’t have to. Ike knows Soren recognizes his own accomplishment even if it doesn’t feel like much.

“It’s not much, but it’s a start,” Ike says. Soren sighs.

“I suppose,” He murmurs and leans back against him. It lets Ike have an excellent view of Soren’s lower half from beneath the water and his fingers twitch with the urge to touch those plump, black thighs. Soren seems to understand because it doesn’t take long before he’s tilting his head back and teasing him, “You can touch them if you want to, Ike.”

It’s one invitation Ike will never be able to refuse. He plants a small kiss against Soren’s ear and slides his hands down, down, down until they’re pressing into pliant flesh he’s been denied access to for weeks and lets out a low groan.

“They’re real…” Ike marvels. Soren can’t stifle his laughter.

“Of course they’re real,” He says, spreading his legs just a little further apart to allow Ike’s hands to slip between them, “Ike,” Soren begins, “Do you remember what I told you about the other sirens?”

“What about?” Ike pushes the heel of his palm into Soren’s thighs and relishes the soft moan he gets in response.

“About… the way I swim,” Soren clarifies sounding a little dazed.

“Mmm…” Ike hums, “I remember.”

“Titania says that my bones resemble a human more than an orca,” He says, “That’s why I don’t swim very fast.”

“Haven’t we already had this conversation?” Ike says, a little distracted and amused.

“Well yes, but…” Soren covers Ike’s hands with his own, “It’s just… when she told me, it… it was the first time I was ever happy about being different.”

Ike pauses his ministrations as his thumbs roll over a long, thick line of scar tissue – a reminder of what Soren has been through – a difficult decision made even more challenging since he had to make it alone. If Ike has one regret about this whole situation, it’s definitely that. He can’t imagine what it must have felt like for Soren to keep his legs a secret for so long, constantly agonizing over how Ike would react when he found out.

He plants small kisses against the side of Soren’s neck in some kind of silent apology.

“Ike?” Soren turns to look at him and Ike gets lost in warm, red eyes. He slides his hands beneath Soren’s legs and turns him around, cupping that supple, cleftless backside while wet arms reflexively curl around his neck.

Soren looks as though he wants to say something else, but Ike doesn’t give him the chance. He tilts his head and presses a meaningful kiss to Soren’s pale lips.

Then another.

And another.

Then Soren lets out a pained hiss and Ike pulls away, alarmed.

“Are you ok?” He asks a little breathy.

“Yes, I’m fine… Ah,” He winces slightly and shifts awkwardly between Ike’s legs, “I’m just not used to putting weight on my… knees,” The word rolls off Soren’s tongue like it’s some sort of foreign concept. In a way it is, and it makes Ike grin.

He hoists Soren up onto his lap and drags his tongue along the length of his throat, delighting as a small bubble of laughter he gets in return. Soren arcs against him and squeezes his thighs around Ike’s sides and wow, Ike did not expect to find that so hot. He bites the juncture of Soren’s neck and ends up bucking his hips involuntarily letting out a soft groan when his semi-hard erection presses against Soren’s rear.

Soren gets the memo quickly. He pushes Ike against the back of the tub, a small grin containing a hint of mischief playing at his lips. He chews his lip and leaves one hand on Ike’s chest while the other slips beneath the water to greet Ike’s growing member.

Ike smiles back and tries to pull Soren closer, but the siren evades his reach and instead hold’s Ike’s gaze steady. His strokes him, long and slow, overshooting the base at times to play with his little curls.

Ike’s a bit embarrassed at how quickly he got up – his stamina and self control are usually so much better – but it’s been so long and he’s missed Soren’s touch _so much_ that he can’t really focus on much else… except maybe returning the favor. He tries, sneaks his hand between Soren’s legs so he can fondle Soren’s cockslit but Soren’s quick to jerk his hips back. Ike frowns a little at Soren’s growing grin. Apparently he doesn’t want any reciprocation – not yet at least. He settles for gripping Soren’s hips instead, but that doesn’t last long either as Soren disappears under the water…

…And promptly coils his tongue around Ike’s dick.

Ike yelps and jerks his hips upwards, but Soren doesn’t choke. Instead, he parts his lips and sucks at Ike’s tip, licks it like a lollipop, and swallows him.

Whole.

Ike groans, deep and loud. He fists Soren’s freshly cut hair, torn between wanting to make him stop or wanting to make him go faster. He does neither. Soren bobs up and down on his dick, scraping teeth against the underside the way he knows Ike likes.

It’s good.

_Really_ good.

Those sharp waves of pleasure ripple throughout his body and his cock throbs in the back of Soren’s throat.

Up, down, up, down.

He pulls off, kisses the tip, and swallows it again.

Ike pants and twists his fingers in Soren’s hair trying desperately not to come – or should not do that? How long has Soren been under there anyway?

His thoughts are stilled when Soren begins to fondle his balls. That’s all it takes before Ike is bucking his hips and gasping for breath.

His whole body tenses as he comes hard, hard, _hard_ down the back of Soren’s throat, and his dick doesn’t even have the decency to go soft. Soren keeps sucking at his head until Ike’s choking out his name in some sort of weird, garbled cry.

Soren surfaces while Ike’s trying to catch his breath and shake off the tiny pleasurable shockwaves sparking off his dick.

“Shit,” He gasps. He manages a weak, blissed-out smile that Soren promptly kisses. There’s still cum on Soren’s tongue and Ike knows he should probably be grossed out by that, but it makes Soren taste like the sea he came from – salty and rich and hungry for another round. He sucks Soren’s tongue until it’s clean, then kisses him as deeply as he can.

Fuck he tastes good.

“Ike…” Soren gasps between kisses, “We should…” Another gasp, “…not much room… ah… here…” Ike sucks on Soren’s lower lip and kneads his backside like a loaf of bread.

“Right,” he mumbles, “Bed,” They’ve never fucked on a bed. Ike would love to fuck him on a bed. Into a bed, maybe. A soft surface where he can pound into Soren’s slick little slit as hard as he likes without having to worry about scrapes and bruises.

He can actually _do_ that now.

…Or can he?

It occurs to him in that moment that Soren’s cloacae has shifted to a new location between his thighs, too low to be a vagina, too high to be an anus. That… probably required surgery right? Then maybe Soren wouldn’t let Ike touch him because he wasn’t healed yet.

He should ask. That’s the responsible thing to do, right?

Right?

“I want to fuck you,” That’s not what he meant to say, “I mean uh,” he backpedals, “…is it ok?”

The amused look on Soren’s face is probably a good sign.

“Is that your way of asking me if I’m all healed up?” He asks. Ike nods with a little too much enthusiasm that makes Soren giggle, “Then yes. Its fine,” He leans in close to Ike’s ear and whispers, “You can fuck me as much as you like.”

Ike wastes no time. He scoops Soren up and trots towards the bathroom without bothering to pull out the drain plug or towel off. His erection bobs as he runs until Soren’s fingers still it with teasing touches that causes Ike to stumble, swear, and pin Soren against the wall with a fervent kiss. Soren’s cock peeks out of its slit as he grinds his hips against Ike’s chiseled middle. Slick drips down his stomach, down his cock and pools on the carpet. It reminds Ike that no, they cannot have sex in the hallway.

Damnit.

It’s several more clumsy steps before Ike can drop Soren on the bed and pin him to it. He’s painfully hard again so he bucks between Soren’s slick thighs to relieve some of the pressure.

Bad idea. It feels so good he’s afraid he’ll thrust himself in all at once and leave Soren screaming in pain instead of pleasure. He captures Soren’s lips and let’s his cock dangle dangerously over the siren’s waist. His hands wander, reacquainting themselves with his dips and valleys. Every shiver, every moan, every tiny gasp is precious and urges him to be gentle, to be sweet. So he does. His movements grow slow and deliberate, his kisses deep and needy.

But Soren’s not having any of that.

He tries to pull Ike closer by locking his thighs around Ike’s hips, but his lack of shins and ankles makes it difficult to accomplish much. He growls into Ike’s mouth and claws at his back trying to encourage him to do more and Ike’s only too happy to comply.

He releases Soren’s lips in favor of sucking harshly at his throat. One hand slips between them and palms the exposed portion of Soren’s dripping cock. This earns him a throaty groan that makes him grin. He slips two fingers into the slit, pressing into the unexposed base of Soren’s sheathed penis and coaxing it out. It swells beneath his touch, forces his fingers out of Soren’s slit and lays heavy in his hand. He squeezes and slowly pumps it, licking Soren’s throat and relishing every twitch and twist of his body.

Soren bucks his hips and gasps. He fucks Ike’s fist like a drunk virgin, soaking the sheets with slick as his cock tries to slither free. The tip touches Ike’s oversensitive dick and he flinches. Soren seizes the opportunity and lifts his hips enough for his flexible penis to slip free of Ike’s hand and coil around his neglected erection instead.

Ike moans. Soren’s dick tightens around his, slick and throbbing and _sliding_ around him like some sort of extremely long tongue. He kisses Soren deeply, bringing their hips together and thrusting against his stomach with an erratic stutter that has Soren clawing at his shoulders and mewling into his mouth

He could come just like this, kissing and rubbing their cocks together… but it’s been months, _months_ since Ike was last allowed to touch Soren. He wants this to be special, not some quick fuck where they both pass out on top of the sheets. He wants to drive Soren to the edge, deny him, then push him even further until he’s begging for Ike to let him come –

“F-fuck, Soren, wait –” Ike pants, reluctantly pulling away from swollen pale lips, “Slow down – ah!”

“Ike…” Soren whines between gasps and weak thrusts from his hips. He must be close.

“How do you want this?” he asks, staring down at the pouting siren on his pillow. Soren blinks dazedly then makes the cutest disgruntled noise.

“However you want,” He breaths, twisting against the sheets, “Just hurry up.”

Ike chuckles. He slides his dick free of Soren’s and kisses him one more time.

“Don’t want to,” He teases, “I want to take my time.” He presses down on Soren’s dick and nibbles at his throat so he can feel that buttery moan vibrate against his lips.

It’s hot – too hot – so Ike pulls off, leans back with a shuddering breath and looks at Soren – _really_ looks at him – for the first time that evening.

Soren’s eyes are hazy, hands lax by the pillow and chest heaving slowly. He averts his gaze and spreads his legs open – a little wider than he’s probably used to. It’s an invitation. Ike licks his lips.

What a sight.

He drinks it in – Soren’s skin glistening and wet, cock swollen and dripping; Legs – _legs_ – open, waiting, _wanting_ Ike to nestle between them, to thrust into his twitching slit.

God, those thighs…

Ike licks them, draws his tongue along the scar tissue, nipping and kissing his way along sensitive skin and enjoying every needy whimper the bubbles from his lover’s throat.

“Ike!” Soren chides, “d-don’t lick that…”

“Why not?” Ike says between open mouthed kisses.

“Because,” Soren mumbles into the pillow, “f-feels weird…”

“Like a good kind of weird?” Ike smirks as he kisses his way towards the end of Soren’s stump and gives it a big lick. Soren yelps and scowls at him, but it only makes Ike chuckle and bite his leg playfully. Soren tries to kick him unsuccessfully while Ike laughs and litters kisses up and down both legs.

“Hngh – Enough!” Soren whines. He slips a hand between his legs and rubs his slick against his hole. Ike pauses, entranced by Soren’s fingers. He mouths one of Soren’s scars and watches as a pale finger slides inside. Soren lets out a relieved moan and pushes deeper into himself, adding a second finger after a few shallow thrusts, “Ike –!” he gasps.

Ike massages the underside of Soren’s legs with his thumbs and watches. Soren’s never masturbated in front of him before. He’s torn between replacing Soren’s fingers with his own, or just waiting to see how far he’ll go.

A low, breathy groan claws its way out of Soren’s chest and Ike decides he’d rather be a participant than a spectator.

He adds one of his fingers to Soren’s and bites his lip in anticipation of what’s to come – but Soren has other plans. He sits up and wraps his arms around Ike’s neck.

“More,” He whispers against the shell of his ear. He pushes down on Ike’s digit to drive the point home.

More, huh? Ike can do that.

He forces Soren back against the bed, lifts his hips up and dips his tongue into Soren’s dripping hole. Thighs clamp tightly around his head as Soren yelps in surprise and Ike grins against the slit.

“Ah – ah – Ike!” Soren cries. Ike rocks his tongue like a hot, tiny cock, sucking and licking exposed skin before tonguing him again. Soren moans and bucks his hips erratically, his dick leaking and dribbling copious amounts of his sweet, oily slick down his stomach and chest. Ike adds one finger, then two, pumping them in and out while his tongue does its own thing, flicking against the outside and delving in for a taste on occasion.

By the third finger, Soren is a sobbing mess. He gasps into the pillow, hands trying to find purchase somewhere but only managing to grip the sheets. Ike fingers him slowly, spreading his fingers whenever he pulls out. His free hand fondles Soren’s swollen member with feather-light touches, determined not to give too much stimulation lest he come too quickly.

Ike places a small kiss to the inside of Soren’s thigh.

Ike’s not sure how much longer he can hold out. His dick is throbbing and painfully hard and he wants so badly to ease into Soren’s tight, wet heat… but it’s been a long time. He has to be patient. Soren deserves to feel good.

Soren reaches for him with glistening red eyes, begging to be fucked and Ike feels his restraint snap. He pulls his fingers out leaving his lover gaping and wanting and steals a kiss. He presses his erection to Soren’s wide slit, smears his slick around with slow, slow rolls of his hips and pinning Soren’s dick between them.

“Ike…” Soren cries weakly, tugging at his lover’s hair, “please…”

He needs no further encouragement.

The head of his cock breaches Soren’s rim and he sheathes himself inside.

It’s hot. So hot, so wet, and so velvety smooth. Ike bites his lip to keep from moving, at least for a moment to let Soren adjust, but Soren doesn’t seem too keen on keeping still. He peppers Ike’s face with kisses and draws a breathless laugh from his throat at how cute it all seems. Soren tenses and shivers on Ike’s dick and his feathery kisses fade to needy bites along the neck. His hands wander up and down Ike’s sides, sometimes finding purchase on his back or his hair – still Ike doesn’t move.

Soren grows impatient. He grips Ike by the ass and sucks his lower lip, moving his hips in a clumsy manner that has Ike somewhere between a moan and a giggle. When that doesn’t get the response he wants, Soren ducks down and captures a nipple between his teeth.

He sucks a gasp from Ike and an involuntary thrust of his hips. Ike can feel the siren grinning against his chest as he abuses the sensitive nub with his tongue until Ike is bucking into him, shallow and hard. Soren’s cock twitches against Ike’s stomach, desperate for more friction.

It only lasts for a minute before Ike has both of Soren’s wrists pinned to the bed, trying to regain what little control he had.

“That’s enough out of you,” He croons against Soren’s ear. Ike groans into Soren’s shoulder – pulls himself out, then in, then out, then in.

He sets a rhythm as Soren’s legs squeeze his hips. They rock together chest to chest, shivering at the pleasurable sparks rocketing through them with every subtle movement. Soren’s moans spur him to thrust harder, _deeper_ into his slippery depths. His cries are hoarse, the angle unfamiliar to both of them, but it feels so, _so_ good –

And then Ike thrusts in a way he’s never been able to before and suddenly Soren’s crying, spilling his slick all over his stomach and coming, twitching around Ike’s cock. Ike knows he should stop but he can’t. Soren’s voice is wrecked and it makes his balls tighten as he pounds into him harder. Ike licks his tears away, rolling his hips against the spot that makes him scream and come over and over again.

His balls clench – he’s close. Soren’s so thoroughly drenched in his own slick and cum that Ike slips out several times and has to force his way back in that delectable pulsating hole. He releases Soren’s wrists in favor of his hips and fucks him like a bitch in heat as he pants into Soren’s sobbing mouth.

One more kiss and he’s coming – _hard_. He shudders and groans with his whole body, pumping Soren full of seed and stealing tiny kisses in-between greedy gulps of air.

It takes a minute or two for the tremors to subside. He shivers when his cock slips from Soren’s body, limp and spent. He forces himself to crawl out from between Soren’s legs and promptly collapses next to him.

Soren’s eyes are closed, his breathing slow, but heavy. He opens them only slightly when Ike slides his arm beneath his head and manages a weak, blissful smile.

They’re both soaked and sweaty. The sheets are damp and in desperate need of changing, but Ike can’t bring himself to care. His body is buzzing in the aftermath of his orgasm and all he wants to do is wrap his arms around his lover and sleep. They’ll be a sticky mess in the morning, but they can just take another bath…

And maybe do the whole night over again.

The thought makes him smile. He plants a small kiss on Soren’s forehead and lets his eyes fall shut.  

“Ike?” Soren mumbles, tired and hoarse but it still sends a pleasurable rush through Ike’s chest.

“Yeah?” He mouths against his forehead.

There’s a pause long enough for Ike to believe Soren has fallen asleep, and then –

“I love you.”

His heart skips a beat.

\-----

It’s a beautiful June day. The sun beats down on the beachgoers while the wind blows cool air in from the water. An excellent day to be on the boat and an even better day for fishing.

Ike sets down another large plastic barrel at the end of the loading dock, one of many and filled to the brim with live, fresh fish. After a full year of having to fish by himself and barely managing to catch enough to meet his sales minimums, it feels good to have a surplus. Mia and Boyd work well together and while he misses having Soren on the boat, running the long lines means he can spend more time at home.

It’s a fair trade off, all things considered.

“Alright Boss! That’s the last of it!” Mia wipes the sweat from her brow with an accomplished grin as she and Boyd set down the last of the barrels.

“Great, thanks,” Ike says, “Pickup should be here any time, so you two can go home if you’d like.”

“Yeah? You sure?” Boyd says. Ike nods.

“Yeah. I’ll see you guys on Monday,” Boyd gives him a light punch on the shoulder.

“You mean you’ll see me tomorrow,” Boyd says, “Mist wants you and Soren over for dinner.”

“Right,” Ike says with a sigh, “I forgot,” In truth he was hoping that Mist would have forgotten instead. That’s not to say he’s opposed to having dinner with his sister, but he’d much rather spend a Saturday night at home with Soren.

Mia squints passed the docks to the parking lot.

“That’s weird,” She mutters absently, “What’s wrong with that guy’s legs?”

Boyd and Ike follow her gaze. Ike’s face breaks into a grin.

“Soren…” He says, a little surprised but pleased to see him – although Ike can’t quite figure out why, or how, he got here. Titania’s vehicle is nowhere in sight and their house is a good half hours walk from the docks. Soren may be more used to wearing his prosthetics these days, but it’s still a bit too far for him to manage on his own.

 “Someone you know, Boss?” Mia asks.

“Yeah,” Ike says fondly.

Boyd claps a hand on Ike’s shoulder and gestures towards Soren with his head.

“Hey,” He says, “Why don’t you head out first? I’ll stick around for the pickup.”

“Yeah?” Ike tries to keep the excitement out of his voice but he doesn’t do it very well and it makes Boyd laugh.

“Aw, get lost already,” He gives Ike a gentle shove. Mia looks a little confused but shrugs it off and waves him away with a grin.

Soren sits on the grass beneath a large oak tree, absently scrolling on his phone. He looks a little anxious and for a moment Ike feels worried.

But Soren catches sight of him and his face lights up with all the joy of a Christmas tree and Ike can’t help but beam right back.

“Ike!” Soren tries to stand but slips in his attempt. He opts to take Ike’s outstretched hands on his second attempt and lets his lover pull him to his feet.

“Hey,” Ike says, “How’d it go today?” Soren buries his face against the light cotton of Ike’s t-shirt and grins.

“I did it,” He says.

“You got it?!” Ike asks. Soren nods and looks up at him, nervous and excited in equal parts.

“I got it,” He confirms, “Twice a week for lunch prep. And if that goes well and my legs don’t hurt, I can pick up more days.”

Ike scoops Soren up into his arms and laughs.

“That’s amazing!” He gives him a tight squeeze and lifts him off the ground. He squeezes his eyes shut and whispers, “I’m so proud of you,” against Soren’s cheek. Soren’s still smiling when Ike releases him, but his face belays hints of hesitation, “…What’s wrong?”

Soren chews his lip for a moment and takes a deep breath before responding.

“Nothing, it’s just…” He swallows, “…going to take some getting used to. Being on my own during the day.”

“What are you talking about,” Ike chuckles, “You’re on your own whenever I’m working.”

“Yes, but not around other people,” Soren says quietly.

“Ah,” Ike says. He understands the shift in mood now, “But you’ll be working by yourself in the kitchen, right?” Soren nods slowly, “Then, just take it one day at a time. If you don’t like it, you don’t have to stay.”

Soren shakes his head.

“No, I want to do this.” He says with the same determination that gave him the courage to trade his tail for a pair of legs, “I want to learn.”

“And you will,” Ike laces their hands together and tugs Soren towards his truck, “Buuuut in the meantime,” He kisses pale fingers, “I think we should celebrate.”

“Oh?” Soren cocks a brow at him, “What did you have in mind?”

“Mm,” Ike hums mischievously, “Let’s do something that will get us out of going to dinner at Mist’s tomorrow.”

Soren laughs and pulls him in for a kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And with that, we are done.
> 
> I really wonder how many of you saw the whole prosthetic thing coming? Was it too obvious, or not at all?
> 
> Some things that I wanted to include (but didn't because they didn't make sense to include in the context actually telling the story):  
> \- Soren's only half-siren. His father was human so his anatomy is different from normal sirens (he has human hip and leg bones down to the ankles. His 'feet' however are fused together)  
> \- Ranulf, Boyd and Ike grew up together, but Ranulf is four-ish years older so he left town first which is why Boyd and Ike seem a little closer  
> \- Aimee is the Librarian (did anyone guess this? I can't remember)  
> \- Skrimir is Ranulf's roommate and a pro football player. They met after Skrimir got injured on the field. They have an open relationship.  
> -Soren's job is at Oscar's lunch stall. They sell seafood lunch sets during the summer and pre-made lunches in the winter.  
> \- Rolf attends school with Mist (or did until she switched focuses)  
> \- Shinon and Gatrie work on a rival fishing boat.   
> \- Mia only sticks around for about a year before going off to buy her own lobster boat. She drops by town periodically, but is terrible about keeping in touch.
> 
> Anyway, Thanks for reading everybody! This was a way bigger project than I intended (ain't it always?). Honestly it was supposed to be like, 10k total as a long oneshot and uh... that didn't happen. 
> 
> I'm actually really attached to this story in general, and I have plans to expand on it and make it into a proper book. I'll post an announcement here when I do! Be on the lookout for it!
> 
> Thanks to everyone for taking the time to read this fic and support this pairing (I really really love them). It means the world to me, you have no idea.
> 
> <3 u all


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